FOR THREE-SCORE YEARS AND TEN 

IN THE LIFE OF G. W. HENRY, 

WHILST SOJOURNING FORTY YEARS IN SPIRITUAL, EGYPT, 
ONE YEAR IN THE SLOUGH OF DESPOND, AND TWENTY- 
SIX YEARS in THE LAND OF JBEULAH : 



TOGETHER WITH THE 

RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE OF HIS WIFE. 



'"Thy Bim shall no", more go do we, neitlier shall thy moon 
withdraw itself ; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, 
and the days of thy mourning shall he ended."— /«aia^ €0. 20. 



ELEVENTH THOUSAND SOLD, 



FRANKFORT, N. Y. 
1871. 



LC Control Number 




tmp96 029196 



TABLE OF CONTENTS, 



/7< 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

Introduction to Kew Work, written June, l&tl Page 350 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Story of tlie Justice- Eemoval to Oneida- Ccmnienced Book- 
binding — iiilburne's lectures Comparing natural blindness 
with spiritual- Singular convention in Utica .... 854 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Climbing the hills— Taking Jesus with us— Key-hole view— Five 
different works mitten 366 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

i. story of Tell Tale— Popular sins...., 379 

CHAPTER XXXYI. 

ii. story of Fresh Laurels— Poetry 887 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 
Believing with the brain and not with the fleshy heart— Im- 
portance of preaching and of writing books— Five deaths in 
our household. . . '. , . . S96 

CHAPTER XXXVm. 

Church trial at Oneida 40& 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 
Climbing up Mount Blanc— Descending the ladder— Mrs. Henry's- 
lunacy— Down in the valley .* 41^ 

CHAPTER XL. 

Concluding chapter — Bitter herbs in Goshen Ministering 
angels in the flesh— Good Samaritan- Poor House—Love 
Feast testimony— Valley of blessings , . 438 



PREFACE. 



Respected Reader, — I am about to j^ut forth to tlie 
world the second edition of the history of my hfe. 
As in the first, so also in the second edition, two ob- 
jects present themselves to my view. First: to in- 
form the reader what a great Saviour a great sinner 
hath found ; and pray most fervently that he miglit 
take courage, and if he has not already done it, start 
this moment from ruin's brink, and take refuge under 
his almighty wing, and be happy now and hereafter. 
Secondly : — another motive in sending forth this 
silent preacher and narrative, is to make it a channel 
in conveying temporal blessings to the cottage of a 
poor Wind man, and his afflicted family, — in short, 
to do good and get good. I have also been en- 
couraged to put forth the second edition, because 



4 PREFACE. 

liimdreds have told me tliey bad been gi'eatly 
blessed in reading tne blind man's book ; and 
some of those that first fonnd their way to the schc'ol 
disirict hbraries were worn out the first three years, 
and a second volnme purchased by the trustees. 
Another reason is : there were some little mistakes in 
the first edition, v^'hich I wish to correct, as I know this 
little book will live, and speak, and have its infiu- 
ence after the author has passed tlie portals of death, 
and meet him at the general judgment. Another 
reason, and that I think more prominent than all 
the rest: I had just entered into the suburbs of the 
land of Beulah, or perfect hght, when the first edi- 
tion was issued. I wish, therefore, to inform tiie 
reader sorcething about its boundaries, the fertility 
of the soiK and of its delicious frttits ; of its g-igantic 
inhabitants and bulwarks ; and encourage the reader 
to sell all, pack up, and move over at once. The 
Sciipture trtily hath said, It is a goodly land 
but as far as I have travelled, the half never w;ts 
told me. 

I liave not a single apology to make on fhe 



PREFACE. 5 

subject, or commendation. The boob must speak 
for itself, and tlie reader may judge for liimself. 
He will, doubtless, find it, like tlie unpretending au- 
thor, no great things, but a life of half a century 
made up of getting into difficulty, and then getting 
out again ; but I hope the kind reader will shun 
the evil, and embrace the good, if good he can find, 
in such a life of errors. This is not written with 
any feeling of vainglory; for there are many things the 
author will be bound to write, which he could heartily 
wish might not be found in the revievv of his life, 
but Vt'hich he beheves, through sovereign mercy, 
and the goodness of God, are all forgiven. The 
picture of m^y hfe vdll have something the appear- 
ance of Nebuchadnezzar's image. If we begin to 
look at its feet, they were part of iron and part of 
clay; while its legs were of iron : so the otttset of 
my life was comparatively worthless. As we ele- 
vate the eye, we find the material of the image 
increasing in beauty and value ; for its thighs 
were made of brass. Looking a little higher, we 
find its richness still increases ; for its arms were 



6 PREFACE. 

of silver. And as we look upon the head of 
the statue, Ave find it a lump of pure gold, of a 
thousand times more value than all the rest of 
tlie image. So, reader, if you travel with me 
from the follies of my youth to the present time, 
you will find me in the gold region, or in the land 
of Beulah, where I am not able to count my 
riches, but am still digging for more. And unto the 
divine hand, who, through his sovereign mercy and 
boundless grace hath brought me into these gold 
regions, is this work, with all my ransomed powers, 
most solemnly dedicated. Amen. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER 1. 

The Author's birth and parentp.ge rage 13 

CHAFTER II. 

Hemarks on human nature— Phrenological character, hy 0. S. 
Fowler — A cure for light-fingered pi^opeusities, tobacco-chewing, 
gam>)ling, and drunlieuuess l-l 

CIIAr-TER III. 

The Author a "lady's man" — Account of first courtship and first 
ball, with comments contrasting society for tliiriy years 

CliAPTER IT. 

Military career — Coal-burning — 'Wall-laying — Pretty daughter — 
Loiled pu-dding — Musical instrument— Advice 40 

CHAPTER y. 

Hires out to a farmer — Horse-racing — Refusing to bet — Turns ped- 
ler — Ped'ers and mothers compared — Goes to making cow-bells 
— Partnership — Ta'kes a tour West — Incider't — Returns ar.d set- 
tles in F-rankfort— Temporary blindness— Trip to Keu'-York — 
Adventures — Dreams — Pocket-book speculation — Unfavoural)le 
issue — A sudden death — Universalist sermon — Solemn reilec- 
tions CA 

CHAPTER VI. 

Tavern -building— Bad luck— Pell-making again— Failure— Romn-v ;il 
to Pennsylvania, — Another attack of blindness— Contract on Pub- 
lic Works — Building locks— More misfortune — Petitions Legis- 
lature for remuneration for loss — Granted — Railroad contract- 
Extensive business with small capital — Bad luck again— The U. 
S. Bank — Stops payment — Tavern-keeping — Consequent misfor- 
tune—Political changes 73 



8 



CONTEXTS. 



CHAPTER YII-. 

U. S. Bank of Pennsj-Ivania chartered— Another fj^ilrcnd contract 
— The old foe, tad luck, ag-^iin— Bank shut— Eotren currency- 
Canal contract — Lawsuit — Fu v: iira ? d £ : — Eefiectioi:? — 
Further history of the U. S. B;v.:k cf Fer.n-: ylvania— roll: i o 
strife— Death of the "Monster"'— A retrospect- C .--ttrtshi 
marriage I i-:: u-i 

CHAPTEE YIII. 
Introduction to Spiritual Life, and last contract — Steam mill in 
Virginia — Prospects bright fur a large fortune — Eeilections on his 
religious views — Loi'enzo Dow's sermon — Pleasure c?: -i;r-:o!i on 
the holy Saohath — Sickness and arrest — Sudden /, <: ;_e- 

currency— ^ . ; ■ - : : ; \d_//^;— F;..;! 

Perri-jus adventure and providential rescue ii>:an a . — ■• 

Eyesight failing — Last attempt to mend a hrok.:_ , . . . .V 1 
dress to the. reader — Pulls up stakes for Pennsylvania .. ..lOS 



Total blindness— Covenar.i : _ :;5t time at mourner's 

able dream — I. - a i l.y^.jiaii—Xc. re- 

lief for blinda — associate's character 

described— Sc;d._ _ — 1 _ - :atetings— A Lo^^-feast 

— Asks tlie pray ; _ . ■ rethren— More penance for sin — Prayer- 
m.:'et;ng— The r./ " :.yi r.nd the f:r5t rammunion — Anguish of 



mind lest guiky oi sin in so f. ' - - k : e and despair alter- 
nate—The Pible— Singular coin : . ... turning to a particulai 
passage — Horrible doubt — Another remarkable dream, and its 
singular likeness to the one at Washington— Faith strengthenod 
and hope renewed — Eeturn to Pennsylvania — Attends r aar: ;alv 
meeting — Love-feast — The devil again at work — Deep c: .^ : : :i 
—Fear of i>rejudice — Goes to the Presbyterian Church — l\v;n:aiks 
deduced from this course— No relief, and less conviction — At 
Greencastle, Pennsylvania — Another dream, and its similarity to 
those of Washington and Baltimore— A crumb from the Master's 
table — A camp-meeting— Retires for prayer in the solitude of the 
forest— No relief— On the mourners' bench again— Displays of 
God's power — Tremblings and spasms — The devil at his old 
tricks — Unitarianism — Troiible of mindabcut the Trinity — Thun- 
der-storm—Hope revived— lietrospectiou—Sms forgiven 137 



CONTENTS. 



9 



CHArTEE X. ■ 

Spiritual Life continued— Thoughts on the new birth—EreaTenly 
joy — Eeview of the past — Xo sectarijinisin — All Christian:-? speak 
the language of Canaan— Camp-meeting cc'niinuos — The prayer- 
meeting — Another assault of the arch-ficiid — Temf-tations and 
spasms — Asks God again for relief— The hght shines in upon his 
soul — Victory — The camp-meeting breaks up — Keturn home — 
Prayer for his wife's conversion — First letter to his mother — ^Vn- 
other camp-meeting, composed of- negroes and while people- 
More remarks on Slavery — A rich gospel feast — Thougliis on the 
movings of the Spirit— Satan busy again — Happy scene in the 
preachers' tent, and close of tlie meeting Page 162 

CHAPTER XL 

Sptrttual Life continued — Another camp-meeting — Satan rencwj 
his attacks — Convulsions — The Spirit grieved — Prayer and relief 
■ — A glance at business — The depravity of the human heart — Cor- 
porations have no souls — Consolations of the gospel — Story of tlie 
converted heathen 186 



CHAPTER XIL 

Death of his father-in-law — Eefiections from Dr. Young, suggested 
by that event — The first prayer at the family altar — AVorldly tri- 
als and temptations — Account of his wife's seeking religion — 
Prayer for her conversion — The appeal answered, and her change 
of heart — Eefiections on the danger of carnal security =191 



CHAPTER XIIL 

Tr-ip to the Xorth— Another remarkable dream — Hapx^inoss on 
av.-aking — Thoughts on the resurrection — Journey to the South 
• — Visit to the Blind Institute, Philadelphia. — Determines to k-arn 
brush-making — Description of the institution — Interesting inter- 
view with the pupils— Eeturn to Greencastle— A little about r^Ior- 
monism— Goes to M'ork at his new trade — Success in brush-making 
—Eefiections 2iX) 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Spirituallife continued— The doctrine of holiness of heart and en^ 
tire sanctificatiou — His mind avrakened to the subject — A sermon, 
and his contest with the minister — Prayer for the blessing of 
perfect love 210 



10 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTEB XV. 

Licensed to exhort— First attempt at Greencastle— The devil bust 
again, and trouble in speaking — Resolution to do the will of the 
Lord, according to the strength given — Further experience in 
exhorting, and success— Another camp-meeting — Thoughts on 
camp-meetings generally — His happiness during the period — The 
breaking up of the assembly, and the parting scene — Eeturn to 
the place of his boyhood — An addition to the family circle — 
Preaches at Craiu's Corners— The devil's whispers— Victory over 
the adversary — Licensed to preach — More attacks from Satan-— 
Another dream — Favourable interpretation — Success in preaching 
— Jacob and his dream Page 213 



CHAPTER XYI. 

Peep conviction for holiness — The gold-diggers — Unbelief— Foul 
birds — Presumption — Unworthiness — Sanctificatiwn essential to 
preserve justification — Illustrated — Agrea: mijLilie — Price of the 
spotless robe — ^Darling reputation — Camp-meeting — Brother Gor- 
ham relates his experience — The author sanctified — Entrance 
mto Eeulah — Scriptural terms — Address to the reader— Recapitu- 
lation— The three friends 221 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Address to the reader — Christ's mercy— Five events— The land of 
, Eeulah— Close of the camp-meeting — Gravc-ciothes — The second 
touch in the case of the bhud man 238 

CHAPTER XVIIL 
Visit to a backslidden brother — Moral courage — The devil turned 
out-doors — Pure motives — First Sabbath after camp-meeting — 
Coat of mail — The devil's chief business— Blunderbuss — The 
preacher's diplo-ma 243 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Mrs. Henry — Marriage a type of Christ's union with his Church- 
Promises to the poor — Xarrative resumed — Prayer for a dear wife 
— Trials — Mrs. Henry joins her husband in Beulah — Rapture — 
Little boy and girl converted 249 

CHAPTER XX. 

rioligious state of Frankfort — Prayer-meeting at the blind man's 
cottage — Faith — Growth in grace — The water-level — Father Roper 
—Protracted meeting— Mr.i. Henry's cxhortations^A dream.. 254 



COXTENTS. 



11 



CHAPTER XXI. 

A missionary spirit — Praise acceptable to God — Birth of the author's 
little book — Capital stock — Instruments selected by God— The 
jaw-bone — Encouragement — Faith in the midst of difficulties— 
The little book i)rinted — Sale of books — Itinerant field — The 
mind's daguerreotype of friends — Eemarks — The old man's time 
to shout Tiige 2o0 

CnAPTEll XXII. 

Camp-meeting in M'ConncUsville — Mrs. Henry's affliction — Sister 
Koon — The reward of self-denial — Brother Squires — Dosceiit of 
holy fire — Cure of spiritual pride — Elizabeth "Ward — Faith's vic- 
tory — Brother ITartwell — Leaping for joy — Love-feast — Battle- 
grounds — Camp-meeting in Schuyler — The balloonist — ^Mnking 
money out of the devil — The test of Christian graces — Subjects 
of prayer. 2uS 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Birth of a son — The night-blooming Cereus — The idol — IDeath of 
Charles Emory — Consolation of religion — Poetry — Value of perfect 
love estimated — Illustration — Danger — Prayer 21 Q 

CHAPTER XXIY. 

/^ssed trials — Ptcsignation — Committing to memory portioTis of 
Scripture — The miner's wife — The joy of faith— Counting up 
riches — Faith in God's prun'iises — Health restored — ^^Ir■^. Henry 
on Mount Pisgah — Affliction — Mrs. Henry near death — Tlie au- 
thor's prayer and exercise of faith — Wonderful display of divine 
power— Improved health of Mrs. Henry — The physician— Inci- 
dent 279 

CHAPTER ?vXV. 

Eev. Jesse Penfield— Methodist church built in Frankfort— Glorious 
revival— Brother V^yatt — The great feast— Brother Henry drunk, 
with the wine of the kingdom— Comparison between the two 
kinds of wine— Two recipes— Good morning, brother pilgrim. .237 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Prospects brightening— The great book-auction — Visit to the Blind 
Institute — The class-meeting— Remarks— Incident — The Sabbath- 
ictiool. . . . : 293 



12 



CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER XXVII. 
Selling books— Opportunities for usefulness— Conversion of Charle* 
AVendall— Mrs. Henry's diary Page 303 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 
Labours at the poor-house— Granny Taylor — The pauper and the 
poor-master— The duty of the rich — Dives and Lazarus — Gew- 
gaws—Preacher's salary — The silver hubs— Selling Heaven.. 310 

CHAPTER XXIX. 
Camp-meeting at Augusta— Peculiar exercises — The lawyer's lady 
—The lame healed 321 

CHAPTER XXX. 
Birth of a son— Disappointed hopes— Loss of a horse— Subscription 
raised— Another providence — The infidel and the old saint— Be- 
nevolence of Judge Wright and L. M. Erown — Five dollars for 
one — A word to local preachers 329 

CHAPTER XXXL 
Pto flections— The cause of temrierance — Reasons for joining the Sons 
of Temperance — Slavery — Mrs. Stowe — Narrative resumed--Re- 
marks upon holiness — Close 338 



LIFE OF GEORGE )V. HENRY. 



CHAPTER I. 

I was bom in Hatfield, Massacliusetts, Januajy 6, 
1801. My fatlier, Robert M'Kniglit Henry, was 
reared in the city of Hartford, Conn. My mother s 
maiden name was Clarissa Merry, daughter of John 
Mei'ry, of West Hartford, near the city of Hartford. 
Soon after my birth, my parents removed to Her- 
kimer County, N. Y., where I liave ever since re- 
sided, excepting the time I was engaged on public 
works at the South. My father died when I was 
about three yeai^s old, and I have no remembrance 
of him. When I was about six years old, my 
mother married again to a farmer, by the name of 
Thomas Kinney, then and now residing in the town 
of Litchfield, in this county, with whom she is still 
living. I am her only child. 

To detail the events of my boyhood, which was 
marked by nothing extraordinary until I was about 
eighteen years old, when I commenced business for 
myself, would be but little better than a waste of 



14 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



paper, and a loss of time to the reader to peruse it 
Suffice it to say, tliat during tliat time I lived vnth 
mj relatives, worked on a farm summers, and went 
to scliool winters ; and, like the generality of boys 
of that age, was more fond of play than study, and 
more fond of hunting than work. Nevertheless, I 
am thankful that I was always kept 'tolerably close 
to work, 



CTTAPTEK IT. 

TiiROUGiiouT tlie family of mankind, every indi- 
vidual seeiiis to have some leading propensity, which 
accompanies liim tl.rough life, and determines his 
fe)rtune. Or, as it has been said : 

*' There 's ca rlivinity that shapes our ends, 
Koiigh-hew them as we may." 

And as " the proper study of mankind is man," 
and more especially the study of one's self, I have 
given my attention somewhat to the observation of 
man," as developed in others as well as in myseh'. 
I have learned, in the course of my life, that we 
l:now l)Ut little of our neighbours until we have had 
dealing with them in some business operation. I 
have found a o;reat many men virtuous and appa- 
rently honest, till a tempting opportunity was pre- 
sented for them to be otherwise, and then their vir- 
tues and honesty, like some people's patience, when 



TJFE OF G. Vr. HENRY. 



15 



most needed, were found to be absent. Men are not 
always what tliey appear. In tlie coiu'se of my 
diversified life, having experienced almost eveiy va- 
riety of fortune, from opulence down to pinching 
poverty, from bi'illiant success in business to perfect 
failure, I have often proved the old adage true, that 
prosperity gains friends, but adversity tries them. 

But as it is my business to give the events of my 
own life in this narrative, I shall, in the outset, pre- 
sent the reader with a picture of my character, as 
drawn by Mr. 0. S. Fowler, in 1837, and leave the 
reader to compare this picture with the facts I shall 
narrate, and judge wdiether it is " drawn to the life." 
When the phrenolog;-..t had finished examining my 
head, and committed it to wTiting, I read it care- 
fully over : when I came to any portion that looked 
rather bright, that I was willing to accept as about 
as it should be ; but in perusing the whole picture, 
I found quite a number of features not very pleasing 
to look upon. At these I shook my head in some 
doubt ; but on the " sober second thought," I was 
forced to yield myself a convert to the science of 
phrenology, and I can say like the w^oman at the 
well of Samaria, I found a man that knew^ all about 
me. I shall leave the reader to draw his own con- 
clusions, and entertain his own views, of tlie science 
of phrenology. It will be remembered that I was a 
perfect stranger to Mr. Fowler. But I can go no 
further with phrenology than the natural man is 
concerned ; although some degree of e.nterprise, ard 



16 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



/ery likely the natural bent of mind may be carried 
out in spiritual things, as in the case of Paul after 
his change from nature to grace ; Paul the apostle 
now showed the same degree of zeal and enterprise 
in preaching the gospel from city to city, that 5:iul 
of Tarsus had before done in persecuting the Church 
of God. His propelling powers had only taken an 
opposite direction. The predominant principle is 
equally seen in both charactei's, which only sIioavs 
that the most salutary gifts of God may be per- 
verted to the worst purposes. And without some 
such perversion of the original gifcs of I^eirv, the 
fhculties of the mind, either by the inimeli:Vi^? p:^^- 
sessor of them, or by his prog^nitoj's, [Joy .;L:-rjn:].ii'/s 
like debts may be entailed.) it cannot be doubted 
that their manifestation would be always r'ght. 
But man has sinned, and grace must purify the 
lieart. j>ut I promised to give you the words of 
the phrenologist. Here you have them, and you 
must judge for yourself: — 

Capt. G. ~\V. Henry is a most peculiar giiiiii^^ 
and possesses sti'ong powei-s of thought, and very 
strong passions, both of love to fi'iends, and of hatud 
to enemies. He will go any length to assist those 
to whom lie takes a fancy ; and yet his hatred and 
vengeance are most bitter, and his remarks about 
them biting, sarcastic, and caustic. His jokes both 
sting and tickle. He compares the objects of his 
displeasure to some most disagreeable object, and 
has a most violent temper. He will boar long be- 



L'ZFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



17 



fore lie gets fully roused ; jet, after that, wont be 
pacified, and is quite haughty. His powers of mind 
are great. Go where he will he cuts a figm-e, and 
is always bold, enterprising, efficient, resolute, drives 
all before him ; yet is much more cautious than he 
appears to be ; plans on a large scale, and thinks 
that he can do almost anything that anybody else 
can do ; has the utmost confidence in himself ; is 
thoroughgoing in all that he undertakes ; will please 
himself first, and others afterwards, and never can 
cancel his opinions, or change his course of conduct 
in order to get the 'poiyidar favour ; is always 
honourable, yet very conscierdious ; does not know 
that he can do wong ; never takes advice ; exces- 
sively fond of debate and opposition, and courts con- 
test ; great in argument, and will do well to make 
stump speeches ; loves to get money, and will not 
allow one cent that belongs to him to be taken from 
him, and yet spends it extravagantly, and must al- 
ways have the best ; has a great sliare of mechanical 
genius, and is really a genius in making, building, 
or constructing anything that he takes hold of ; 
can invent and contrive ways and means to 
effect mechanical operations which are new, and 
just answer the purpose ; will make a wonderful 
man for engineering, &c. ; builds also a great many 
castles in the air ; full of hope, and promises himself 
the greatest success ; one of the best natured of men 
when he takes a fancy ; not at all devout or i digious, 
very incredulous ; a very great lady's mao. Goes 



18 



TRIALS AND TRiraPHS IN THE 



the whole figure in everything ; blows out his whole 
mind, and has no hypocrisy ; eminently courageous, 
fond of children, and will do a great business. 

" O. S. Fowler, 

June 28tli, 1837." 

Here you have Mr. Fowler's opinion of the man ^ 
and I would again remark, that he had never seen or 
heard of me until I was placed under his hands. 
Let us take a stand here, in the middle of our jour- 
ney of life, and take a look backwards and forwards, 
and see how much true character the phrenologist 
has guessed out ; for it is said that guess-work is as 
good as any, if you only guess right. As Mr. Fov/Ier 
has given some good and some bad, I shall be 
obliged to do the same, as I told you in the begin- 
ning I should have to ; and as some things must be 
told which may not be palatable to the sober and 
gray-headed reader, I shall ask him to skip over all 
such incidents, and pass on to v^here he will find 
something better suited to his taste, and leave the 
fighter subjects to such as relish them. 

There are four vicious, or sinful besetments, to 
which I have been subject at some periods of my 
life ; and in stating what they are, I will also give 
their pre\*entive or cure. Tliey are theft, gambling, 
tobacco-chewing, and drunkenness. The phrenolo- 
gist has stated tJiat T wfis always lionourable; but 
you know it is said thei-e are exceptions to all general 
rules. It is so in this case. In looking my life over 
carefully, I have no recollection of committing more 



IIFE OF G. W. HEI^RY. 



19 



than one single act whereby I exposed myself to the 
penal law of my country, although I find a thousand 
errors and mistakes. I recollect that when I was 
quite a little hoy, I had a most ardent desire fcr a 
penknife, and it was a rare thing in those days for a 
boy of my age, living in the country, to have a knife, 
or a sixpence to get it with. But I had occasion to 
go to New-Hartford, a village a few miles from my 
home; there I entered a large store without any 
money, or any expectation of getting a knife, and 
requested the merchant to show me some of his arti- 
cles. He immediately handed down a pack of 
knives, and laid them on the back end of a long- 
counter, and told me the price of them, was two 
shillings and sixpence, and left me to examine them, 
while he stepped to the other end of the counter to 
trade w^ith some more pi'ofitable customers. The 
knives suited me to a T, Here was a moment of 
as severe temptation, probably, as I ever had in my 
whole life. ISTow, there is no sin in being tempted, 
for our Saviour himself was tempted. But the ini- 
quity lies in yielding to the tem.ptation; which, un- 
fortunately, was the case W'ith your flaxen-haired 
author. It was all done in a moment. The de\nl 
(I suppose we have a t^ht to chai-ge liim \Yith such 
things) said, " Fob it.*' My pockets were all marked 
M. T.," [empty.] Instead of reflecting whether 
the All-seeing Eye w^as upon me, I cast an eyo 
around to tlie merchant who was busv ^-''h his, 
cascoiuers. . Ih^^ k.i.L^ fobbed, and 1 



20 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

out of doors. O ! liow I remember that day, tlioiigli 
nearly forty years liave since rolled a^vay. Bi.it^ 
alas ! it was a dear knife to nie. It haunted me 
like' tlie knife of King Maclxitb-, with which he cut 
tlie throat of Duncan, which ever after the bloody 
deed, while tlie ghost of Duncan with the throat cut 
from ear to ear appeared to harro^v up Iris imagina- 
tion, Iiung over the head of the guilty king dripping 
with the blood of his victim. O ! v/hat Avould I not 
ha\'e given, soon after I left the store, to ha\-e had 
iliat knife safely in its pack lyiug upon the mo- 
chant's shelf, and my conscience relieved from tlie 
stuig of guilt ! although no mortal man under the 
heavens knew it but myself. And the very name 
of New-Ilartford vv^ould bring a guilty blusli upon 
my cheek. Here I might si>in out many pages in 
portraying the remorse I felt until time and bu.siness 
lulled memory to sleep. O I my dear litile flaxen- 
luii}-ed readers, I tell this incident for your benefit, 
that if you should be tempted in a like manner, you 
sliould ac once remember the hiife at In ew-IIartford. 
In such a temptation, ask God to give you help to 
resist, and always remember that honesty is the best 
policy. 

*' Whene'er temptation lingers nigli, 
Hemember God's all-seeinij e3-e." 

I f'lin would give this some otlier iiaino than 
tlieft, but there is none otlier tliat soils it ^'o wm!. 
This tlirongh grace divine has ever }.:• ). / i ; o 
efiectual preventive to the repetition of any ,;';,:h 



LIFE OF G. TV. ^IE^"RT. 21 

mean and dislionourable act. This was done wliile 
the conscience vrps a^ tender as the apple of the eye. 
Had I pnrsued this "wicked course, I might soon 
have stolen a horse vrith less compunctions, and per- 
haps ended my days in prison. So much for the 
penknife. 

Secondly, in regard to gambling, blacklegging^ 
and its cure. I think I was about fourteen " - 
okl, when I was sent out for the first time c:. 
ness, with a span of horses and sleigh to Taberg Fur- 
nace, in Oneida County, about thirty-six miles distant, 
to procure some hardware, and do some other busi- 
ness. I was supplied with quite a sufficiency of 
money to bear my own expenses, as well as • 
of the team ; and I was sure if I peribrm _ . . . 
business well, and got safe home, I should not be 
asked any questions about the surplus money that 
inio;ht be left after oaYino; tiie .expenses of the tviv. 
Here I comimenced my first lesson of rigid economy, 
which, had I carried out through hfe with mr usual 
industry, I should probably, at this time, h"va ^ 
house to cover me from the pelting storm, v- ; 
liirino; it; and my flour-barrel and meat-cask won,.- 
not sound so empty as they now do. But I thank 
God that these have been like the meal-tub and 
cruse of the widow, that entertained the prophet 
Ehjah : they have kept about so full. But to re- 
turn to my story. When I got ready to start out 
on my journey, I managed to get hay and oats 
enough, to feed my liorses, and pork and beans 



22 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS m THE 



enough to feed myself. I made tlie trip all in good 
order, and returned back as far as the village of 
'Whitesli>oro', the last place I was to feed at till I 
should get home ; and in looking over my finances, 
I couM say, like Gen. Jackson m one of his mes- 
sages, I was at peace with all the world and out of 
debt, with two dollars and a half in my pocket. 
Although I have had not less than half a million of 
tlollars pass through my hands since that time, yet 
I think I never before or afterwards felt so rich or 
important in m.y own estimation, as I did that 
morning. 

TLe speculations that ran through my head were 
numerous, and, as I supposed, important. I thought 
to make some purchases, as I should pass through 
Utiea. But I knew I had money enough to buy 
out all the boys for a mile round me when I reached 
home, and the way I intended to shake it at them 
T^as a caution. O, what a tyrant money makes of a 
man ! But after feeding my horses under the shed 
for the kist baiting, I took my bucket of pork and 
beans in one hand, and my whip in the other, snap- 
]3ing it at every dog or fov/1 that came in my v/ay. 
I entered the bar-room of the tavern in full state, 
asking no favours of anybody ; and, as I think, 
before I opened ray box of luncheon, I very grace- 
fully put my hand into my packet, and di'cw forth 
my pocket-book, and took out my money with some 
little flourish, and asked the landlord if it was cur- 
rent, taking care tliat all the gentleman-loafers'in the 



LIFE OF G. Vr. HENRY. 



23 



bar-room should see it. It being pronounced good, 
I returned it to my pocket, bought a glass of cider, 
and went to eating my lunclieon. O, liow little I 
imagined that riches had wings, and that the vvings 
of all my earthly treasures were already beginning 
to expand for flight ! But the whole machinery for 
my bankruptcy w^as then in tiie bar-room. Before 
I had got my cider half drank, there arose a great 
lazy, bloated, pufling porpoise, who was on the jail 
limits, and he drew forth a pack of cards, and went 
to the knowing bar-tender while he stood within the 
bar, shuffled his cards, and laid them down on the 
counter. At this time I was very ignorant of that 
beautiful science called the Black Art, perfsi-nied 
with cards. I merely knew one card from aiio:hor 
The cards being " cut," the loafer offered to bet one 
shilling, that after the bar-tender had shuflied " the 
pack to suit himself, and also cut the pack, he (the 
loafer) would take the part cut ofi", and turn his 
back and examine them, and then that some speci- 
fied card of the remaining part of the deck would be 
first turned face up. I left my breakfast to gaze on the 
new and interesting transaction. To my astonish- 
ment, the gamester vfould turn up the very card he 
named, and take ofiF the bar-tender s sliilling ; but 
the bar-tender continued to bet till the third or fourth 
time, and while the gambler had the part cut ofi:', he 
went as usual to the back part of the room, vritli his 
back turned towards the remaining cards. The bar- 
tender then shuflQed the cards as by magic, and 



54 TEIALS AXD TRIUMPHS I^' THE 

placed tliem back in their position again. Xow/' 
says he to the loafer, "I'll bet yon two doliai*s." 
"Done," says the loafer. " Xow," says the bar- 
tender, " ^Ye have him inking to me to put do^n 
my money. It \vas no qnicher winked than done ; 
my two dollai-s and a half were all down, and the bet 
c : :if:r:'::r :-. what golden visions flitted across my 
iiz ! Instead of two dollars .and a half. I 
should take home with me five dollars in triumph I 
"^ow," i:: rl the loafer, ''is ah ready? is the 
money all 1. : , To which we emphatically re- 

plied, " Yes.*' He then shuffled his cards again with 
r::: "- :l::in ordinary acctiracy, while every minute 

: 1 :.u hoiu' to my fingers, itchirie" to claw the 
five dollars I He then cried out, - 1 1 l^at the Jack 
of Clubs will be trump,*' and immc liate.y returned to 
the deck ; and as he turned over the uppermost card, 
there was presented that frightful and never-to-be- 
forgotten Jack of Clubs ! while, at the same time, 
the magician loafer hauled ofi' all my money, with 
all my golden dreams and hopes of present and fu- 
ture happiness and aristocratic power, and vanished 
from my sight. 

There are very few men who have met with more 
reverses of fortune than I liave ; but I think, put 
them all together, they would not be so heart-rend- 
inof and sickenino: as this transaction was to m:. 
TTlien I learned that the bar-tender and loafer wei-e 
co-pailners in this swindling operation, God knovrs 
liow cordially I have hated cards and every species 



LIFE OF Ct. MSr, HENRY. 



25 



of black-leg;^ii][2^ ever since, vritli a perfect hatred. 
The admonition of tlie old Irish Tvoman to her son, 
when on the gallows, would have applied to my case 
at this time. She says to her bo-" v / ^ - ' t 

the rope's end : "Dear Jemmy, y: v. : r 

when you had your fathers watch in your p: a,: 
and money to pay for your edification, how many a 
time your old mither tould you to giv^g int ^ daceiit 
company, but you would i::: ;1 ■ ;:. Y;u see 
now where yon are, you do, and I hope :: ::::.y ' e 
a warning to ye." This event vras ever " a vr:,.::-:.g'' 
to me, and a cheap cure fo: >.::id of specula- 

tions, for I presume, exposed as much as I have 
been through life to such kind of company, I have 
never ^gambled to the amount of ten dollars in my 
hie. could never forget that fiital " Jack of 
Clubs.'^ 

Alas! what ruin and misery h : V } : _ i 

th.e" wicked practice of gambling. As the wily 
spider spreads out its silken v-eb. and e::^n:\r :5 the 
silly lly, so the cunning y. ::^' \ v: j::::A: ' 
artful net the innocent and un^-^ :: -. - 
remorse devours the victim of his c 

The next vice, in the before-mentioned category, 
to which I became early ^^ddicte ^ " ' ^ \ I 
shall also relate the cure, is t:': r _ ^^.3 

vicious habit, so prevalent, it Ay an im- 

morality, is at least so ':\ ' -est cases 

injurious to health, that ]. . / ; : nted from 

c'lized society. 



26 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



I tliiiik it was in the seventeeiitli siiinincr of my 
age, tliat I was labouring on a larm for a Mr. Cam]> 
bell, of "Winfield, in tliis county. He liad a step- 
son lidng with him by the name of Yrilham Stew- 
art. "We had occasionally strolled into some of the 
nllage taverns, where we discovered many young 
men so f^ir in advance of us in the accomplishments 
of the day, that we were, in our own esteem, most 
wondrous green country fellows. The young village 
gents could chew tobacco, puff the cigar, drinh rum, 
and swear according to the most approved terms of. 
blachguardis. We discovered, that something must 
be done to mahe us ap]3ear more like gentlemen, to 
give us a smack of refinement. . Ys^e th erefore bought 
a threepenny paper of tobacco, resolved to try the 
graces of che^ving, and began by degrees to educate 
the palate to the use of the nauseous drug. As the 
dose was, by degrees, increased, the palate began to 
relish the taste, until about the fourth day, wlien, as 
I vv'as laying a stone fence in a warm summer dav, 
and Vrilliam was ploughing on the hill above me, 
having the tobacco, I left my work and went up to 
him, and said I : ^'Bill, rll bet I can take a Lirger 
chew of tobacco than you can.'' lie "doubted it;" 
so I ran my fingers into the paper, and took out a 
hard quid about as large as a hickory nut; William 
took out what he contended was equal or more. I 
went my way imitating, as far as possible, the gi'acc.s 
of an old tobacco-chewer, flattering myself that I 
had now acquired the accomplishments of the ai' 



2? 



But my feelings soon underwent a giievous clinnge. 
A deatli-like sickness soon came over me, followed 
by a cold damp sweat and dizziness. xTever was I 
in such misery. I paced the meadow for hours. I 
could neither die nor live, till I found some relief. 
But I was effectually cured of my hankering to 
adopt that vile pi'actice, and of ]^iy admiration for 
its votaries, from that time hitherto. So these tln-eo 
cents were well laid out. How thankful I am that 
now, in my blindness, I am not a slave to a habit so 
opposed to cleanhness, so offensive in the family 
circle and in society, so pernicious to health, such a 
tax upon a poor man's purse, to the use of a filtliy 
nauseous drug so unbefitting any purpose undei' the 

heavens, save the purpose of killing on poor 

calves in the spring of the year I Surely : 

Tobacco is an Indian vreed, 
And from the dsvil dotli proceed ; 
It picks your pockets, burns your cl&tlies^ 
And makes a cbimuey of your, nose." 

Youth is the m.ost dangerous period of life, for the 
formation of such pernicious habits. The habits 
then formed, perhaps from an idle curiosity, maybe 
from a disposition to ape. the example of others, it 
matters not from what cause, are very hkely to become, 
confirmed, and accompany an individual through 
life, and, if they be evil, to subject him to all tlie 
inconveniences and misery which they are fitted to 
bestow. And at this period of hfe there is generally 
found an anxious desire at once to be thought a man, 



28 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THS 



and an almost imcontrollable disposition to do about 
as one lias a mind to. And tlie seeds of ultimate 
ruin and Y>TetcIiedness are generally sown witli tlie 
first vicious habits, and tliey readily spring up, and 
unless speedily extirpated, take deep root in tbe fer- 
tile soil of the youthful heart. Their fruit is only 
ruin. Think of this, my young readers and old. 

Touch not, taste not, handle not the unclean 
thing." Eesolve to be free from the slavery of habit, 
— a slavery more absolute, when you are once fully 
under its dominion, than an}^ other. And remem- 
ber, that in the simple matter of dollars and cents, 
(which is but a mere n-action of the evil,) your 
threepenny paper of tobacco per day (by no means 
extravagant, in the opinion of an old tobacco-chewer) 
will be a tax upon you, in forty years, of nearly 
$500 ! which is worse than thrown into the fire. 
Think of these things, my friends, and be wise. 



CHAPTER III. 

The phrenologist lias said that I was a very great 
" lady's man." By this, I suppose, is meant a man 
fond of the society of the ladies, ready to bestow his 
gallant attentions upon the f^iir, and, it may be, 
occasionally touched with a tender inspiration of 
Cn]:)id. If this is the proper meaning of the ex- 
pounder of bumps, I have not a word to say in con- 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



29 



tradiction of his position, but shall leave the gentle 
reader to judge whether he has done me justice or 
not, after giving a few adventures hearing ujDon 
this point. The society of worthy young ladies had 
always a multitude of charms for me ; and as for 
the tender passion, I agree vfith Iludibras, that — 

*' LoYe is a fire thcit burns and sparkles 
In man, as naturally as in charcoals." 

At least it always seemed so to me. My ear was 
always awake to the discourse of sweet music," 
and in the matter of dancing, from early boyliood, 
my feet would almost involuntarily join in the 
chorus of the violin, and respond with nimble antics 
to its bewitching tones. The fiddle, the bewitching 
fiddle ! 1^0 sable son of Africa was ever more in- 
spired by " the harmony of sv^eet sounds," fiowiDg 
from fiddle-strings, or ever wore out more slioe- 
leather in responding to its notes than I. Llnsic, 
dancing, and the ladies, were three ideas that were 
closely associated in making up my notions of en- 
joyment. With spirits buoyant as air, and keyed 
on a high note, full of hope and animation, I was 
never troubled with what is sometimes called " the 
blue devils,^'' My opportunities for gratifying my 
notions of enjoyment have corresponded to my dis- 
position; and nere I might open a rare seer e of ad- 
ventures and arnasciuents, such as c:ju.-. "sta- 
tions, meetings, i gs, kc.^ \wiich I 
W^^s i\i the lime i.a. no douuLj 



30 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THK 



^vliicli it is hardly worth while to narrate. Such 
vain dehisions must give pLace to more substantial 
and profitable things. I vrill, however, mention 
some few of these adventures of early life, or the 
picture would be quite imperfect. 

I was many times honoured witli being associated 
on lists of managers of assemblies and convivial 
p:u'ties, with some of the most noble-spirited youths 
of the land, and many of them my dear and inti- 
mate associates. I regret that I have not preserved 
each card. Yvhat an army of youthful comrade?, 
as vrell as those of riper years, would they recall to 
memory ; and then to inquire vrhere they now are, 
v\diat has been their fortune and ultiinate fote ? I 
have no dou^ot that one-half of ihem vrould be found 
among the pale nations of the dead ; many having 
made shipwreck of fortune; and 01 how many, 
alas ! may have fihed the drunkard's grave I Once 
endowed with talents, literary acquirements, quali- 
lied to fill posts of honour and responsibility in so- 
ciety, the children of prosperity and hope, but, ah! 
they have fallen ! How sad the reflection I 

But I will give the youthful reader an account of 
my first attempt at courtship, and of the first ball I 
ever attended, hoping he will excuse me from treat- 
ing further of my own follies on these two points. 
I treat of these two incidents together for the reason 
that they were so nearly associated throughout the 
whole farcical transaction. At the time I was abour 
seventeen jears old, it was fashionable and highly 



LIFE OF G. Vr. IIENHY. 



31 



commendable for yomig men of tliat age, and fronr 
thence upwards, to "go a sparking," as tlie term 
then was ; but I believe that in this more enhght- 
ened and refined day it is called " going a court- 
ing but I prefer the old-fashioned expression, from 
tho associations which it recalls. And now, as I am 
to present you but one case only, I will be more 
particular in telling you how they used to do up 
such things about thirty years ago, and leave it 
with the more modern beaux and belles to compare 
it with the present mode. 

There were two distinct classes or societies in 
those days, who used to meet in separate assemblies ; 
the younger of which was denominated the "trun- 
dle-bed company." After a young lady or gentle- 
man had graduated in the "trundle-bed coinpany,'' 
and attained a suitable age and degree of accom- 
plishment, he or she was duly iuitiated into the 
higher or older' rani: ; which being done, they were 
supposed to be qualified to propose and entertain 
the gravest proposiiions ; and in the case of a you::g 
lady, she was now considered an ehgible candidate^ 
and was at all times subject to the following deeply 
interestino: inter roo-ation from the enternrisino; vouncr 
beau : — " Miss Dulcinea, shall I be favoured vvdtli 
the pleasure of your company next Sunday night 
This question vras usually put with a sufficient de- 
gree of palpitation of the heai't to give tlie whole 
affair a smack of sentiment; and in those days the 
gentle creature properly appreciated the agitutioa of 



82 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN" THE 



the young swain, and responded to his interroga- 
tory in a manner fitted to quiet his fluttering heart. 
Eiit from the great number of lone bachelors we 
have among us at the present day, I am inclined to 
think that the times must have somewhat changed 
in this particular. But, as I was going to saj^, a 
young lady who had emerged from the " trundle- 
bedders," and who had not a light in her parlour, 
sitting-room, or kitchen, as the case might be, till 
almost day, as often as one Sunday night out of 
three or four, was considered rather below par, and 
her case in the important matter of matrimony was 
thought to be rather dubious. 

But to my first adventure in this business — a 
hazardous enterprise 3^ou may be sure. And I Vvdll 
be bound that of all the gr.-^ve undertakings of m.y 
life, T never entered upon one with a more doubting 
and faint heart ; for I woidd have my kind reader 
know, that for a young gentleman to "get the 
mitten " in those times was more humiliating than 
it would be for a young lieutenant to suffer a defeat 
in his first engagement: in fact I am inclined to 
1 liink that war and courtship are not altogether dis- 
similar in this particular. In, both a man needs a 
valiant heart and an ingenious tact. I was to try 
roy fortune for the first time, and had but just taken 
leave of my trundle-bed companions, and a failure 
just then would make me feel I 0, you may guess 

it was in the autumn of ISlY, I was cutting corn- 



LIFE OF G. Vr. HEXKr. 



stalks witli Schuyler Smith, a very respectable 
young man, and an intunate of mine. There 
t^'ere two young ladies of our acquaintance, who, 
like ourselves, had but just emerged n-om the " trun- 
dle-bed company," one by the name of Alice , 

and the other Charlotte . Xow, the girls 

v^-ere of the first respectabihty, but Charlotte was 
considered rather the most engaging of the two, and, 
in fact, about the finest ghl in the town. Schuyler 
and I, while cutting stalks, resolved to I ? r:: r::, 
" break the ice," and put the before-mentio-- . :^v.r - 
tion to these tv>-o young ladies, right in their face and 
':'yes, the next Sunday night. But we could not 
agree who should go to see Charlotte, the favourite, 
each coveting the glory that would be shed around 
him if he should be successfid. TTe each trembled 
at the thought of "the mitten.'* Finding* that we 
::ot nkely to a^: : ^ >: — , ; '^v: . ii the 
ex]>c..dent of drawin^c cuts. AccordiL^^iV two slips 
from a corn-stalk were rre^r^ared of unequal .enz^h, 
and the one that sli : ;^ 1 e: ;e ;le ^ : > : ' ■ ^ :> 
to see Charlotte ; and, as tortime would have it, the 
lot fell on me. What a moment of h:-:e axd fear, 
of anx:c:y c::.! :^.t;btl But hope ^: : ' : :-:_::ated. 
It was as my sheet-anchor in the corn-fieid, and by 
it I nerved up every fibre, and resolved firmly to 
proceed with the trial the next Sunday night. The 
auspicious night approached, and ere the sun had 
shed its last lingering rays upon the western hills, 
while yet its silver tints cast a glow of mellow beauty 



34 TRIALS- AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 

upon tlie clouds overliauging the horizori, insplrii^g 
tlie young beliolder vritli a tender sentiment and 
subduing tlie tumult of liis passions, Scliuyler and. 
myself were mounted on our nags, tlieir heads turned 
towards our promisedi land. The young ladies lived 
on the same road, and about a quarter of a mile 
apart. We soon arrived at the dwellino* of the lair 
Alice. Schuyler dismoi^nted, and I proceeded on 
my way silently, wid: a palpitating heart, half hop- 
irig, half doubting, but fully resolved, and descended 
into a deep and somewhat romantic valley,' vrhici-e 
dwelt the lovely Charlotte, the object of my enter- 
prise, vrho had it in her povver, by pronouncing one 
short mon.osyllable of two letters, to chill tlie very 
blood in my veins, blight my buddir.g hopes, and 
stihe the rising gallantry whliin me! 

As I pi'oceeded duvrn the steep descent on the 
opposite side of the gulf, where stood a veiy higli 
hill covered with trees and shrubbery, I saw, or im- 
agined I saw, a brihiant s ; - \' ro me 

seemed a ti-ailing comet, pa> . . . .f ihat 

hill. This I thought ominous, and my sentimental 
pendulum greatly increased its vibrations. But I 
remembered the old maxim, A faint heart never 
won a lair lady,'' and girded up mj courage. I 
soon found myself seated in the fitmily circle of 

Deacon . The greatest lion that now lay 

in ]ny v/ay, (as I often found afterwards under simi- 
lar circumstances,) wa:S the old guardian mother. 
l>ut I was not there long before, as a sailor would 



LIFE OF G. ^V. HEXF.T. 35 

sav, I "liaiiled aloiigskle of the beloved Cliarlotte, 
and, wiili all tlie solemn gra\dtv of an owl, delivered 
the momentous message, wliicli I had been brood- 
ing over and arranging for the week past. In 
almost breathless silence I avr aited her reply. She 
livas an intelligent, and, withal, a most hind-hearted 
girl, of about fifteen. She said she would ask her 
elder sister. Accordingly there was a family-cauct1^j 
held in the other room to consult ore? my fate* 
Header^ imagine yourself standing oil the gallows, 
with the fatal noose already about your neck, amidst 
a gazing imiltitude, faintly expecting and ardent iy 
hoping for the governor's timely repr'<jv ; ^ ou 

should be left to dance in the air; ii.. ^ hat 
woidd be your feelings, kind reader, in such a ca-:c, 
and you will understand something how I felt ju-t 
then. But as I watched the movements of the 
caucus closely I discovered that matters began to 



look favourable. One of the boys wr:^ ^ 1 to 
make a fire in the fi'ont-rocm. Soon ^ ap- 

peared, and invited me to draw my loose coat. 
How willingly I complied with the n it will 

not be dimcult for a young beau ic i.^^u^iiie. She 



bore it away with mv hat and whip to the aforesaid 
fi'ont-room, now about to be warmed up for tlio 
happiest man in the world; and the heart that ten 
minutes before was in a huge commotion, like a 
tempest in a te.i-r vwj now calm as a May 
morning, and full ut jcy. 

Now the mere matter of having a few hours of 



S6 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IX THE 



" small Lalk," althoiigli exceediDgly agreeable, was 
but a trifle compared with the r/Zory that awaited 
the successful issue of this bold undertaking. Glory 
is to an ambitious man what meat is to a hungry 
one. There was probably not another young ver- 
dant in town who would dare make so bold A move 
in his first enterprise in the great business of spark- 
ing. The object was high, and nothing but a dar- 
ing spirit would run the risk. ^ However, I soon 
found myself a near neighbour to Miss Charlotte, 
where I continued for the rest of the evening, des- 
canting upon the numberless topics which are 
usually so fully canvassed on such occasions. The 
rest of the family were quietly snoozing on their 
pillows, and revelhng in the land of dreams. IS'ever 
was a man better pleased w4th his success, and 1 
fain had made myself believe that the young lady 
was scarcely less flattered v^dth tire attention of so 
spruce a beau. The time vras passing away in the 
most cozy manner, and scarcely heeded in our 
httle conference, v^dlen lo ! our old friend chanticleer 
announced the approach of morn and the hour to 
depart ! This was the approved signal at that day 
for breaking up such conferences, or, as it is said in 
leo'islativc bodies, for the committee to ]'ise and 
report progress." Therefore, in compliance with tlie 
ryle, (for you nuisl ];.:ow that a young adventm'cr 
of my age would be very careful not to violate a rule 
of etiquette so generally received among his seniors,) 
I resumed my coat, hat, and whip, with the express 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



37 



understandino; that I was to come ao-ain in three 
weeks. To prevent waking tlie old folks I went on 
tip-toe to the door, where we exchanged, as softly 
and ^sweetly as possible, a gentle "good-night." 
Now it had puzzled me not a little during the even- 
ing how this affair should get publicity, while I 
should attempt to deny it as a matter of delicacy. 
But I was relieved from tliis quandai'y as soon as I 
got to where my horse had been hitched. He had 
slipped his halter and escaped for home, and thrown 
off his saddle on the way. So I had to follow on 
after him on foot. It was now about the break of 
day, and I arrived home about sunrise, where I 
found the horse, which had been picked up by a 
neighbour. And by the time I found the saddle, or 
about breakfast time, the whole matter had received 
an extensive circulation, so that every one I met liad 
something to say on the subject, and my fame was 
established.- I^ow, as an excuse for taking Sabbath 
evenings for such business, we plead the law of cus- 
tom, which, I presume, was established by the first 
settlers of this country from the iNTew-England States, 
a part of v/hose religious creed it was to keep hal- 
lowed Saturday, instead of Sunday night — the re- 
Y 3rse of which now prevails ; though I am sorry to say 
that neither of them is sufficiently hallowed at this 
day. Here mu.«t end the history of my courtship, 
unless I may here:'ifter give a sketch of that which 
resulted in my marriage v^ith her who has since 
ever been lay comforter in aliliction, and is now the 



38 



TRIALS A>*D IKIUMPHS I^' THE 



liglit to my blind eyes. I might recount a great 
number and variety of similar enterprises that tran- 
spii-ed for the twenty years that intervened between 
these tw : 5, It shall suffice on this point to 
say. I v c no recollection of ever being denied 
tlie - of a respectable young lady; nor did 

I e ^ ^ or propose to marry any one but her 
wli ;: I r V blessed with. And I honestly be- 
lievo : : : - : ;::achment for the society of ladies 
lias been a very great preventive to my falling into 
vice, an I \ s into a drunkard's grave, on wliich 
last idea I ^ louch more at large when I come 
to treat on the subject of mtemperance. 

l^ext. 1 : : : : 1^ to promise, I must tell you some- 
thing" o: :: : ::: : ball I attended. 

I : ^: :L: ^viis in the winter previous to the 
affair I have jus: related. There was a ball got up 
at Grain's tavern in Litchfield. I resolved to go. 

I a:;::"; :> imited Miss Julia . as my 

]ia.rtnC'r. iiie evening arrived for tlie LalL I had 
m}^ step-fathers horse and a cutter he had just got 
made, at that day the top of the mode. At the ap- 
pointed hour there was gatliered a company of 
about thirty couple, witli bounding hearts and rosy 
clieelcs. Each fair young lady wa.s neatly clad in a 
woollen dress of her o^vn spinning, and nicely dressed 
and pressed by the clotliier. Nature displayed its 
handiwork of symmetry in their beautiful persons, 
"vvliich had never been subjected to the contortions 
of modern fashions. AYhen bonnets, sbinr^ coats, 



LtFE OF G. TV. ^E^^R^. 



so 



and liais were laid aside, eacli laddie took liis lassie 
and niarclied in reo'ular procession in rear of the 
fiddler into the old ball-room. Then came on a 
lono' ronnd of '* coniitry dances," wherein all danced 
till daylight, as thongii they vrere afraid they shouLl 
not o-et the ^vc>rl]l of their money. But daylight 
nnMclcomely broke np the amusement, and each 
fellovr, and I with the* rest, took home his girl. I 
got home about sunrise, laid off my best clothes, 
and Trent to turning fimning-mill in cleaning np 
wheat all that day for my step-father. I recollect 
that wlnle turning tlie fanning-miil there, I would 
get almost asleep. And while in this state of de- 
lirium or somnambulism, I could hear, or imagined 1 
lieard, every tune of the fiddle distinctly played by 
the iron cogs, while I was going up and dovrn in 
the middle and casting off right a^iid left. But 
sleep and rest restored my bewildered mind. I 
would here remark, that, in my opinion, social in- 
tercourse among young people has been on a de- 
cline from that day to this. Humble merit was 
then in high estimation ; and the young lady that 
hung np the largest bunch of yarn of her own 
spinning, was numbered among the first belles of 
the day, and received merited attention from tlio 
beaux. There vras very little of envying or back- 
biting, or pride as to who should heir the most 
property after the father was dead. I have wit- 
nessed in these later days a dirty aristocracy girovf- 
ing np among the American people, young as well 



40 



TEIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



old — an aristocracy that despises labonv nd real 
merit, and reveres only wealtli. This is much more 
the case at the South than at the North, and I am 
sorry to say that it is often to be found amongst 
professors of religion. 

Eeader, \vhile I have* been narrating these froHcs 
of my youth, I have felt a great degree of solemnity. 
The youDg ladies and young gentlemen that ^vhirled 
^vitll me in the giddy dance, where are they now 
wliile I am recounting these follies ? Many of them 
ai-e numbered with the dead, and amongst the num- 
ber that young lady I waited on that night. Such 
follies are a waste of precious time, if nothing worse. 
I cannot say, as some have said, that there was no 
pleasure in these amusements. But it was but mo- 
ment^^iy. Yvhere there was an ounce of pleasure 
there soon followed a pound of pain, as is generally 
the case when we yield to the dominion of feeling 
instead of reason. Moses was wise when he chose 
^•rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, 
than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season." 



CHAPTER IV. 

Before entering upon an account of my business 
transactions, that none of the striking features may 
be wanting in the picture, I will give somewhat of 
my military careei", for it will be obsei'ved that 1 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



41 



have "seen some service" on the "field of glory,'' 
where men display their patriotism in defending 
their country against an imaginary foe, and where 
tliey can show forth their valour and mihtary shill 
in defeating an enemy of straw. Here I secured 
golden trophies of renown, and received an offic;al 
title that would give me rank with the master of an 
K)\d scow-boat on the Erie Canal. But glory is glory, 
and the man that has a smack of war in his compo- 
sition will wax valiant at a militia company train- 
ing:, thouo'h the clan'2:our of death sound not in his 
ear; and perhaps the absence of danger adds not a 
little to the heroism of the titled sons of ^lars in 
" these piping times of peace."" Xot to derogate at 
all from the "glory" (such as it is) attendant upon 
the profession of arms, I may be allowed to remark, 
that, in m^y humble opinion, the militia system of 
our country, as at present constituted and displayed 
on days of public muster and parade, is a very great 
nuisance, and scarcely less inglorious to our country 
than to the officers distinguished by its titles, and 
to the "high-privates" subject to its (v\^ant of) dis- 
cipline. It ought to be abolished, or thoroughly re- 
vised. It has doubtless much degenerated since the 
days of my martial honours. But I must not de- 
tain my kind reader vrith further reflections on this 
subject. Let us hope that the day will soon como 
when the sword shall be beaten into pruning 
hooks. 

iVbout the year 1822, Daniel Dygert, G. V, 



i2 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



Orton, of Winfield, Herkimer County, and my- 
self, ^vith permission of the commander-in-cliief, 
raised a volmiteer company of about one hundred 
men, for the 27th regiment of infantry. They were 
a band of noble young men — well-made, spiritec, 
and as ambitious fellows as ever shouldered a musket 
in time of peace. I had ever felt from my boyhood 
a martial spirit — I felt the soldier within me, and 
panted for renown : 

" I 'd heard of battles, and loug'd to follow 
To the field some Avarlike lord." 

And even now, after having laid all carnal weap- 
ons aside, the sound of the spirit-stirring drum and 
animating fife, the roar of the booming cannon, and 
the clangour of arms, at once rouses those sleeping 
energies and inspires a thirst for war. But notv/ith- 
standing what the phrenologist has said of my so 
very great courage, had I been called upon to face 
a real foe where blood was likely to be spilt, it is 
quite possible I 

" Had run, forgetful of a warrior's fame, 

"While clouds of friendly dust conceard my shame.'* 

Yet, during the three years I bore the command of 
that company — the largest and best equipped I think 
of any I have ever seen in the country — I drauk in 
more vainglory than in all the rest of my life. 
Amongst all the faults and foibles of my life I do 
not know that I was ever charged with being haughty 
or scornful by the poorest or humblest person living. 



LIFE OF G. W. IIEXRY. 



43 



NevGrtheless, when that company was brought into 
a hne by the subordmate officers, with the signal to 
the captain that all was ready, the whole body as a* 
single man presenting their glittering arms, their 
tall white plumes waving in the air, and the mnsic 
brought to the centre, Louis Philippe miglit have 
envied me my giory as I advanced to my post 
amidst three cheering salutes from the pealing 
drums and fifes, while the ensign measured the time 
by three graceful waves of the star-spangled banner 
of my country, and, as I replaced vritli a mihtary air 
my tinseled and richly-plumed chapeau on my 
youthful head, while my right hand clasped and 
drew from its silver-plated scabbard the sword that 
hung by my sile, then did my heart swell with a 
most mihtary ijride. I bellowed out the word of 
command loud enough to be heard throughout the 
ranks of Bonaparte's army : " Attention, the wh(jle ! 
Shoulder arms!'' etc., and thus the vastly sciL^iuinc 
evolutions of the field were performed with the ut- 
most " pomp and circumstance of v\'ar." 

Eeader, I recount these particulars of my history 
that YOU mav witness how o-reat a fool emystv titles 
will make of a man. If you could but knovr how 
many hard day's labour, and how much money it 
cost me to support the cause, and '•trent" my men, 
J9U would certainly think that I must li^ive been a 
very great military fool. And till I received for my 
kouble and . fatigue vras to be dubbed Captain- 
HexrYj as far as I was known : a title that has ac- 



44 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



companied me ever since, like the iP^rrk sQt iip^on 
Cain. I fain woukl rid myself of this inglorious 
distinction, but I am not allowed to descend from 
this " bad eminence." 

It was customary in those times to "wake up the 
officers" on the morning of parade days, x^coord- 
ingly, long before day till the time for mustering, 
there was an almost continual roaring of musketry 
under the officers' windows. The first gun was a 
signal for the captain to throw open his doors, well 
stocked with rum, brandy, gin, sugai-, &c. These 
bad customs, I am happy to say, are now nearly done 
away with. The first time I ever got corned was 
on one of these dangerous occasions, which cost me 
a severe admonition and nearly , spoiled a valuable 
suit of clothes for me. I got to knocking oft' hats 
with, one of my comrades, which ended in throwing 
each othe]*'s hats into a dirty milhpond — into whicl: 
I plimged for miue, (haviug just enough in my head 
to make me feel a little amphibious just then,) re- 
gardless of clothes or consequences. Here was a 
beautiful spectacle, worthy of the decorum and glory 
of a modern militia parade ! What a proud ex 
jjibiliou for full-grown men ! My youug friends, 
despite such foolery ; respect yourselves, and resolve 
to be men. 

Av.d now, with my patient reader's permission, 
I v/ill f^jiter upon some of my business tnmsscHous, 
with their beginniiig and ending — trani-'fi'lioir: \ '\r\- 
ous, many of thorn important, most of tliem 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



4S 



astrous. And this I do, not that it is a ple^mire to 
ine to re^dew tbe many sad mistakes of my life, but 
tliat you may learn how many sore disappointments 
an ambitious and enterprising man subjects himself 
to, in the short period of twenty years, and that 
you may learn wisdom from my experience. I 
would gladly draw a veil over many transactions of 
my hfe, could I but exclude them from memory; 
but they are indelibly recorded there, and the 
foUies of the past may well serve as way-marks 
for the future. It will not be expected that I 
shall speak of every trifling business, but of only 
such as were of some importance and characteristic 
of the man. 

And now here goes for my first business engage- 
ment, which was with Eliphalet Eemington, Jr., 
of Litchfield, in the spring of 1819, to burn 
tvrelve thousand bushels of coal, in what was cahed 
Slocum's Gulf. It was a wild, desolate region, 
cheered at the solemn hour of night only by the 
hootine of owls and screamino-s of wild animals. 
Here I made my first adventure, full of hope and 
promise of success, in connexion with three other 
young men, Hibbard Pride, Ansel Owen, and Charles 
Randall. Not one of us knew much, if anything, 
about the business. ISTevertheless, ^e swung our 
axes, entered the forest, and erected a collier s cabin. 
But before we had felled many trees, Charles and I 
seceded from the other two, formed a gang by our- 
selves, and built us a separate cabin. We worked 



46 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS m THE 



like slaves almost niglit and day ; lived like liermits, 
black as negroes, and dirty as pigs. We rolled up our 
pits, covered, and burned tliem down ; but being 
unacquainted with the business, I presume we burned 
up a large portion of the coal. Instead of our pit 
yielding six thousand bushels of coal as we had 
calculated it would, we received but half that quantity. 
All the rest soon got tired of the job and left it 
but myself ; I hung out alone until it was finished. 
But to make a long story short, I vnll tell you how 
this job ended — not in a blaze of glory, as General 
Jackson ended the last American v>'ar, but in a 
blaze of coal-brands. I had gathered together, 
coal brands enough to make five hundred bushels 
of coal, and had set them up preparatory to cover- 
ing til em for burning. I finished this labour late 
at night, and crawled sohtary and alone into my 
rude cabin, and was soon deliciously snoring upon 
my stravf-couch in sweet concert with the hooting 
owl and other like vocalists of the night, ilbout. 
midnight I awoke, and found my coal brands nicely 
blazing to the tops of the trees, and casting forth a 
glare of light which was seen by the inhabitants 
of the surrounding country. I had the unenviable 
jvrivilege of walking in the brilliant light of my own 
labour, black as a bear and twice as ragged, my old 
lopped hat on my head which I had sometimes worn 
for a night-cap. What a beauty I must have been 
to look upon! — my face looking as dejected, no 
doubt, as my old hat. I just about got my labour 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. ^47 

for my pains. Wliat an encouraging beginning in 
my Inisiness life ! So much for my first contract. 

You recollect the phrenologist said that I thought 
I could do almost anything that anybody could, 
and would never take advice. Whether these are 
profitable traits in the character of a business-man 
may be questioned. But one thing I have learned 
to be true, that if a man believes he can do a thing, 
and takes hold and tries with all his might, he is 
very apt to accomplish it. But when a man doubts 
his ability he seldom brings much to pass. " Faith 
is mighty to the pulling dovvm of strongholds" in 
temporal, as well as in spiritual things. In regard to 
myself, I can with truth say, that of business engage- 
ments to the amount of some two hundred thousand 
dollars worth of work or more, which I have done 
in the course of my life, I have no recollection of 
undertaking a single job of au}^ moment but v/liat 
I finished ; though in some instances it might have 
been better to abandon them. I was a stranger to 
backing out; and having formed this character as 
a contractor I could get almost any quantity of work 
I asked for. Here VN^as my great mistake — I asked 
for too much at a time. 

But to retur-n to what may be regarded as the 
sequel to my first job. The following winter after 
my coaling operation, I was em.ployed by the Frank- 
fort Furnace Company, to attend top, as it Avas called, 
to that furnace. Mv businesrs was to throw in 
alternately, the coal and ore near the top of the 



TRIALS A^'D TRIUMPHS IX TIIi: 



stact, wlierein the iron was smelted. Raldng over 
tlie coal and handling the ore, gave me a good rich 
Spanish-brown colour. The labour, half the dar 
and half the night, was slavish. My friend Schuyl^: 
attended at the same time as fireman at the foc-t 
of the stack. We vrere paid oil in the spring witli 
furnace-ware — a sort .of coon-sliin currency. 

This kind of hfe I concluded was not the sort for 
me or any other social being — for the peremptory 
demands of a perpetual burning furnace, im]orisoned 
me within its walls, while I was permitted only to 
dream of former scenes of enjoyment as I might lay 
snoozing in the embrace of Isloi'pheus, within the 
beautiful folds of a coal-basket. It was not good, 
for Adam to be alone in Eden : hovr much more 
doleful it was for me in that forlorn condition, I will 
leave- it for my readers to judge. I often felt like 
exclaiming, in the language of the lone inhabitant 
of the desolate island : — 

" Society, friendship and love, 

Divinflv bestow'd upon man, 
! had I the ^ving■s of a dove. 

How soon I would taste you again I'' 

Accordingly I cast about me for a more congenial 
employment. The idea of working by the month, 
under the control of another, was quite unadapted 
to my constitution. If I was not permitted to say 
to one, " Come, and he cometh, and to a-nother, Go, 
and he goeth," I was not satisfied. I never learned 
a trade in my liR*, excepting the one I have learned 



LIFE OF G. Vr. IIEXKY. 



49 



since I liave become blind ; and of this I sliall 
speak in its proper place. The reader will recollect 
what our worthy phrenologist has said of my 
self-confidence, my mechanical genius, my capacity 
to invent and contrive the ways and means just 
suited to a new or difficult purpose, d:c., and what 
a vronderful man I might be for engineeihig, 
and all that. AVe shall see how theory and lacv 
correspond. 

In my searcli for a job, I fell in witli a farmer 
who wanted some stone-fence made ; and to his in- 
quiry whether I could lay stone-vrall, I answered 
liim that I could, at the same time believing what 
I said. The bc'irgain vras at once concluded ; and, 
at the appointed time, I came on clad in my leather 
apron, and fuhy equipped to undertake my job, al- 
though I had never laid a rod of wall in my Life. I 
apologized occasionally, afcer having stretched my 
line and begun to lay the foundation, for my 
a\vhv;ardness, which I feared might be discovered 
by the farmer. I told him I did not expect I should 
lay the first rod so very well, in consequence of my 
hands liaving been out of that kind of employment 
so long. He very charitably fell in with the sug- 
gestion. He was a Idnd-hearted, good-natured old 
man, and I knew a little better than he did, that he 
had a very pretty daughter of about the age or 
gentle seventeen, that might possibly throw a your.-g 
man of my sensibility into " a tender taking." But 
to say nothing more about that no^v, the first rod 



50 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



of wall was soon up, and tlie old man pronounced 
it tolerably fair; and before the snn went down, I 
was an accomplished wall-layer. I finished the job 
v/ith neatness and dispatch ; and my fame soon 
went abroad as a tip-top wall-layer. Thus my char- 
acter was readily established, and I spent most of 
that season in laying stone-walls. 

Now, I hold tliat we can rightly estimate the 
blessings of society and. other enjoyments, temporal 
as well as spiritual, only as we are deprived of them ; 
and thrit pleasure comes by contrast : thus it vvas 
that I could not but compare the life I Avas then 
crjoyhKj^ with that which I had been enduring as a 
colher, and as a fiu'iiace man ; and how sensibly 
was I daily impressed with my happier condition, 
wjien the good old lady sounded her conch-shell for 
diimer, which was geaerahy coniposed in those days 
of a laige Indian piiddi:;g boiled in a bag made for 
the pui'pose, or in a stocking-leg, corresponding in 
size to the size of the fiimily that was to be the 
happy partc'ihei's of the wholesome repast. It is 
quite ])ossiblo that the squeamish noses of these 
moi-e eheminate tiines would be turned up at so 
liomelv an idea. But you must know, dear reader, 
that those were the days of frugal simplicity and 
economy. After a stocking had warmed a foot 
•lui'ing a cold winter, and now at length had allowed 
the heel and toes to peep out at the windows, what 
business is it to you or me, my friend, if the good 
matron should think proper to cut off the foot, and 



LIFE OF G. TT. IIEXRY. 



51 



tie a liank of tliriims around the bottom, after 
j having wasliecl it clean, and then to make a delicious 
' pudding in.it? What is it to us, ^vh ether the old man, 
• the old yromaii, or the prettv dauo-hter had worn 
,j that stoclring, provided the pudding be good and 
' enough of it? Prejudice often spoils some people's 
dinners ; and some people are more squeamish about 
an idea, a whim, a mere phantasm of a too sensi- 
tive, but (often) senseless brain, than about a real, 
substantial, tangible choker, whereat a proper sensi- 
, bility might well revolt. Are we not told in the 
' good book to eat whatsoever is set before us ? When 
the aforesaid pudding vras snugly tied at both ends, 
it was soused into a L\: ^' ^.ijr-pot, and then boiled 
with pork, potatoes, liu.i t aiGr' vegetables, until all 
was thoroughly cooked ; and when the hungry la- 
bourers were sunimoned from the field by the wel- 
come blast of the loud-sounding conch, they were 
seated down to the above-mentioned luxuries, neatly 
arranged on tvvo large bright pevrter platters, which 
had passed down through many generations. The 
young children were furnished with wooden trench- 
ers, and occupied their proper places. Here was a 
lovely scene — here was health and good appetite — • 
here were robust men, and buxom women — and 
here we realized the words of the wise man, that 
" food as well as rest is sweet to the labouring man." 
When the dinner vras over, instead of being hurried 
away into the old coal-house, vre retired into an ad- 
joining room, or, perhaps, to a well-swept barn floor, 



52 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

there to enjoy our "noon spell" in listening to tlie 
music of an old-fasliioned instrument played by tlie 
fair hand of tlie farmer's dauoiiter ; and many times 
tlie neighbouring girls would bring in their musical 
instruments and join in svveet concert, Vvdiile mellif- 
luent yoices, base and treble, lilled the rich measures ot 
the choir. How sad that such music is no longer heard 
• — that that old instrument, the delight of our grand- 
mothers, is now almost obsolete, and its very name 
is numbered among the tilings that were ; an instru- 
ment that, while it delighted the ear of the farmer 
with its merry buzz, imparted a glow of freshness 
and healthful beauty to the cheek of his blithesome 
daughter. If any of my younger reader ai-e at a 
loss to know Yvdiat musical instmment I refer to, 
they can inquire of their grandmother, and she will 
fdye them a full account of it. 

But before closing this chapter, allow me to im- 
part some instruction, drawn from the small portion 
of my experience in business alread}^ introJiicoi. 
In the first place, I would say to the young man 
who is poor and just stiirting out into the world, tliat 
this jobbing- about business is not, in tlie lon.g run, 
the most profitable. You may get larger wages 
while at work ; but, then, there are your rainy days 
to be deducted, and your loss of time from one job 
to another; and then your expenses in travelling 
about from pillar to post in search of pi^ofitahle jobs, 
will just about use up all you make, to say notliing 
of the irregular and unsteady habits they thus 



LIFE OF G, W. HENRY. 



53 



|j establisli. It is tlie continued dropping that wears 
1 away tlie stone, and not the torrent or the flood, 
''whose force is soon spent. Accordingly, the man 
til at works for small wages, but keeps steadily at 
I work, anxl frup-allv husbands what he earns, will at 
! all times have a competency ; and, in the end, have 

i a stock of comforts laid up for a rainy day, and for 
' a good old age : not so with him Vvdio experiments 

on fortune, and expects to get rich at a single throw 
I of the die. Fortune is a fickle coquette, and after 

wheedhng her votaries for a while, is very apt to jilt 
I them at the last. Her lavish favours are sometimes 

but the precursors of her withering frowns — her 

ii smiles often conceal her victim's fate. But dihgent 
industry, patient labour, humble merit, and honest 
integrity, need only look for Heaven's blessings, and 
tlie end is sure. The Jclnd of business is not so ma- 
terial, if it be but reputable and innocent ; but it is 
all-important that it be a stead]/ business. Pride 

I too often controls young men in the selection of an 
: employment, and fickleness the execution of it. Thr. 
former bankrupts thousands — the latter makes va- 
grants of many ; thus the world is full of proud beg- 
gars and enterprising vagabonds. Idleness, indo- 
lence, pride, and prodigality, all belong to one flimily, 
and are generally the companions of irregular habits. 
How many young men spend their summers in la- 
bour, and their vvinters in frolicking ; toil hard from 
spring to autumn, for the benefit of the tailor, the 
tavern-keeper, and the fiddler, from autumn to 



54 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

sprkig; and in tlie spring they start out again, poor 
as cliurcli mice, to mend their fortunes, and to pre- 
pare for the folMes of the succeeding winter : and 
thus youth is spent in preparing poverty and sorrows 
for old age, unless a premature deatii in mercy ends 
tlie scene. These too often see their errors when 
too late, if they ever allow themselves to see them 
at all : the iron sway of habit makes them vrihing 
slaves. Remember these things, my friends, and 
beware ; and forget not the words of the vrise man, 
that the hand of the dilio-ent shall bear rule : but 

o - 

the slothful shall be under tribute.'' Let us here 
end this chapter, and rest for a mom-ent. 



CHAPTER Y. 

The next spring, which, according to my beeL 
recollection, was in 1S21, I hired myself to a Mr. 
Morgan, an old gentleman in Columbia, to work on 
a farm six months, and was to take for my pay a 
beautiful and spirited young mare, and ten dollars 
in money ; which engagement I faithfully performed. 
Itcwas discovered by S'ome of the neighbours that 
she could run fast ; and soon there was a bet thrown 
out by an antagonist ^'n* a trial of speed. This bet I 
refused ; but it was taken by some of my neighbours, 
to .whom I lent the mare. She gallantly won tlie 
race. But I had been CiFectuahy cured of the 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY, 



55 



least disposition for blacklegging of whatever species, 
and every kind of gambling, by my first lesson at 
"\Yliitesboro', the expense of which you have already 
learned ; and amidst the various and tempting 
opportunities ^vith which I have been beset, (and I 
liave been at the Long-Island Course when the 
North and South were contending for every inch of 
ground,) I could seldom, if ever, be induced to bet. 
Happy was it for me that I had learned my salutary 
lesson so early. My fleet mare I soon exchanged 
for another, -more steady, and better fitted for the 
purpose of peddhng, into which business I entered 
the following autumn, and of which I now proceed 
to give you some account. 

I hired to a Mr. David Kelsey, of Winfield, for 
the term of one year, to peddle tin and other wares, 
for the sum of twelve dollars a month, besides my 
expenses. He had several other men employed in 
that business. Here was a v\dde and extensive field, 
where my spirit for projecting and enterprise could 
have full scope. Here I anticipated, as I a-fterwards 
reaHzed, a world of novelties and rare sports. Jovial 
and fearless of heart, I mounted my waggon, laden 
with the commodities of trade, to usher out into the 
wide world, (wherein it is said a pedler can never 
go amiss,) to enrich my employer, and see the 
world." My dear readers, you v^ill, I am certpin, 
have pity on me, and not ask me to tell you of all 
tl]e scrapes I got into and out of again, with more or 
I'.js;. success, during this year in which I was a &ort 



56 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



of cosmopolite ; for if you knew how foolish these 
things now look to me, and how it pains me to re- 
dew the follies of a misspent life, I am sure yon 
♦Tould let me off with one or two adventures, as a 
sample of many. 

In the new business I had now embarked in, one 
important study of mine was, to adapt myself to the 
company I might chance to be in, and make myself 
as agreeable as possible, and to feel myself perfectly 
at home in a cabin or a castle, a pig-pen or a j>al- 
ace — wherever fortune might direct, or inclination 
lead — always bearing in mind that my business was 
to trade. Very likely there may be numerous anec- 
dotes afloat, which rumour, with her trumpet-tongue, 
may have spread as applicable to me, but which 
may belong to another ; which, however, I shall not 
take the trouble to acknowledge or deny. For ex- 
ample, it' has been said that I used to exchange new 
tin for old, and get the full price of the new to boot ; 
and that after I got out of sight, I would throw the 
old tin away. I suspect such stories will always be 
told of pedlers, with more or less truth. You must 
know that pedlers have to become all things to all 
men, (and some women,) in order to trade, and they 
have to show the world, as the notable Sam Patch 
would say, that some things can be done as Avell as 
otbers. But let us o];)en up one of the scenes in a 
pedler's hfe. 

He drives up to a house and alights — anticipates 
the wants of the inmates — gathers up his arms full 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



67 



of various articles — enters the house, and without 
jaany prehminaries, proposes to sell ; then runs 
through witli a long catalogue of articles with all 
the flippancy of a pedler's elocution, embracing 
every article of his assortment — a yarn in most cases 
quite suflicient to bewilder the brain and confound 
the arithmetic of the good hoiisewife, and which not 
unfrequently triumphs over the long estabhshed 
rules of economy of the house. Nine times out of 
ten they will at once demur to the proposition, and 
protest that they have no money. This being, as a 
matter of politeness, conceded by the travelling mer- 
chant, his next move is to plough with the heifer," 
as Sampson would have expressed it, to find out what 
article they needed and would buy, provided they 
had anything to pay with. This being ascertained, 
£md beino; satisfied there is no money in the house, 
(at least that he can get,) he then recites a cata- 
logue of things he w^ould take for pay, such as tallow, 
butter, cheese, wax, brass, pewter, flax, rags, &c., (fcc. 
At this juncture of the case, it becomes necessary 
to bring into requisition that expedient so often re- 
sorted to by lawyers, but oftener by pedlers, to wit, 
impudence, the sine qua non in difficult cases. He 
runs his nose into the buttery, and maybe exj^lores 
the house through from cellar to garret in quest of 
some of the above named articles; which being 
found, he presents to the good lady the article she 
w^anted, at the same time expatiating upon its excel- 
lencies and modestly reminding the excelleat 



58 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



matron of her promise to luiy if slie had anything 
to pay Avith, and intimating that she cannot do 
otherwise than choose between a purchase and a fib. 
Here she is fairly canght, and to get rid of the pest, 
is constrained to mahe the purchase. The gahant 
pedler then gathers up his commodities, stores them 
irito his wagon, cracks his whip, chuckles over his 
success, and soon finds himself at another dwelling. 
Here he enters Avitli his arms full of merchandise, 
and with his blandest address, recites his well-learned 
lesson v;ith the gentlest modtilation and intonations 
of ^'oice, -observing all the stops and marks, the ex- 
clamatory and interrogatory points especiahy ; and 
very likely the father or mother of the household 
ansvy'crs his proposal to trade with the very common 
reply that '* vs'o have nothing to btiy with, unless 
you will take one of our girls for pay." "Agreed,'' 
says tiie pedlc]-, at the same time reaching out the 
Iiand or half-bent iirm to encircle the precious com- 
.modity vvTiich the mother had offered in barter for 
the coffee-pot, skimmer, or other needful, with a 
make-b'cheve to bear lier olf to the wagon to stow 
iicr in with the ilax, rags, &c. Hei'e w^ould follow 
a sciiille, deliglitfiilly ridiculous, and the agreeable 
pedler in ten minutes finds himself an old acquaint- 
ance in the midst of his friends, who now trade with 
liim, a mere matter of friendship. Now, dear reader, 
let us pause, and inoraUze for a moment over this 
scene of folly and trafi:ic, and see if there is a miglity 
dilierence between mothers and pcdlers. 



LIPE OF G. W. HENRY. 



59 



It is truly said that all the world is a stage, and 
each individual has his or her part to act upon it. 
Each has some particular object in view, in what 
he acts. Two farmers go into market to trade : 
one has butter, and the other eo-o-s. He that has 
the butter for sale has all his attention occupied in 
C'ettino; nd of it to the best advantaofe ; and it is a 
matter of indifference to him whether his neighbour 
gets di'unk, falls down and breaks his eggs, or 
vrhether he gets the money for them ; and equally 
indifferent is the man with eofU's of the success of 
him with butter — each one looks out for himself. 
So it is with the mother and the pedler. Each has 
a commodity in market: the mother, a daughter; 
the pedler, tin-ware — each intent on a speedy sale 
and good price. From infancy to girlhood, and 
thence to womanhood, the lovely daughter has been 
the object of maternal tenderness, indulgence, and 
pride. Each opening charm has caught the mo- 
thers eye ; each spark of sprightly intelligence has 
swelled her heart with joy ; the full dbv^elopment 
of maiden beauty and loveliness has moved the 
mothers pride, and inspired her with hopes of a 
ready market and a good price at the hymeneal 
stall. Now that the daughter is ready to " set out," 
as the phrase is at the South, how carefully does 
the mother invest her with every winning grace of 
irnocent ait, and instruct her in all the gentle 
mysteries of conouest. at the same time that she 
uses all of a fond mother's assiduity in guarding 



€6 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



lier tender one against tlie wiles and dangers that 
beset lier, impressing on lier yonng mind the im- 
portant trnth, that female character once marred, 
like a broken looking-glass, can never be repaired : 
the object is a qnick and profitable market. The 
pedler arranges and classes his articles with equal 
care, to attract attention and induce a purchase. 
His object, too, is money — as much of it as possible. 
If that is not to be had he proposes to barter for 
the next best article he can think of — he is bound 
to trade, at any rate, even though he have to take 
tow, rags or rubbish. Is it not something so with 
the mother I A suitor proffers his hand to the fair 
daughter: what is the first question asked by th^ 
interested family, but, How many "dollars or how 
many acres has he ? If he happens to be rich^ 
whether by fraud or fortune, wliuihtT by merit or 
demerit, (no question is often asked on this scoi-e,) 
is she not at once advised to fall in with the ofter, 
and then do not the parents and neighbours all 
unite in the opinion that she is well disposed of, 
and that, too, without a single inquiry whether he 
is 'piom or even moral ? It is well known that in 
these cases an abundance of money hides a multitude 
of defects from the eyes of lovers, and from the eyes 
of parents and friends, but not from the eyes of the 
All-seeing. But the mother, (in concert with the 
daughter,) like the pedler, if she cannot sell for 
money, will barter for the next best commodity, for 
she is bound to make a sale at some lay; and, . 



LIFE OF a. ^V. KEXRY. 



61 



she cannot do better, she may at length he reduced 
to the alternative, hnmhiating thought it may be, 
of keeping job. her hands a despondent old maid, or 
of exchanging her off for a bundle of rags. In this 
alternative shr vrill do precisely as the pcdler doe^ — ■ 
dispose of her commodity, and take the rags. And 
now, my friend, are not these two traffickers much 
alike ? Which employ the most art in their negotia- 
tions, the qjeculators in tin ware, or the speculators 
in daughters, I give no opinion. But I must hasten 
to close up this peddling year> 

Tin-ware was beginning to be a drug, and pedlei-s 
were along so often that it was becoming difficult 
to get people to " look into my box ; (for it was 
generally the case that if I could get them to come 
out to my wagon I was sure to trade some.) I, 
therefore, resorted to a stratagem to lure them from 
their retreats, much in tlie same way that the fowl- 
er uses his stL->ol-pigeon to attract tlie attention of 
the flock. I bought a young cub and i^isten j'l ic on 
my wagon, and on dridng up to a house, bcKTO I 
could get m.y vv^agon-box open, the children vroul.l 
discover the bear, with the exclamation, ''0 ! 
see the bear on the pedler's wagon T' And by the 
time I had opened my box the whole fanuily vrere 
gathered abouc my wagon. Thus, between the bear 
and mysCif, we sold a large amount of ware; al- 
though Mr. K. made considerable in seUing his 
tin, yet he lost much in getting nd of the stuff he 
took in exchange. In the course of this employment 



62 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



my ingenuity was often severely taxed, my love 
of jollity and the ridiculous often gratified, and 
upon the v^diole. my acquaintance with the world 
and my notions of human nattire were a good deal 
enlarged. 

My peddling engagement bein^' completed, the 
uext speculation that en^'age^I my attention was 
bell-making — another new btisin«j:ss me. Accord- 
ingly, I formed a co-partnership with a young man 
of my own age. Hiram Dixon, for the purpose of 
manufacturing about two thousand coAv-bt^lls, in the 
town of Litchfield. This was like putting a steady 
old horse to work with a spirited colt. Dixon, as 
to years, v>'as my peer ; btu as to sedateness. dignity 
of deportinent, and stabhity, he was old enough to 
be my father. He was an erect, slim, almost gaunt, 
clerical-looking c:entleman, with a face that looked 
as if it might have served some reverend curate at 
the installatioD of St. Peter. As a tribute to his 
clerical cast, he was familiarly known among his 
acquaintances by the cognomen of "Elder Spinner."' 
there being in the county a venerable dominie of 
that name, all but the " elder." But notwithstand- 
ing our so opposite characters, we united our capital 
and labour, made our two thousand cow-bells, and 
Bct out for the western country to dispose of them. 
We sold tliem mostly at Cleveland, Upper and 
Lower Sandusky, and Detroit, and took for pay, 
horses, deer-skins, furs, and many other things. 
"We landed at Detroit the day thai General Cass 



LIFE OF G. W. ilENRr. 



G3 



Tras inaugurated governor of tlie Michigan Territory. 
Detroit, at that time, contained but a few houses, 
and they were old and dingy. I thinh it had but 
two taverns. The principal one, where the governor 
put up, was, of course, so filled that we wayfaring 
traffickers could not find entertainment there ; so vv'e 
were constrained to go down to the less nabobical 
*'Blue Ball," as the next and only resort. Here 
we received genuine "western" fare, and slept on 
a straw couch. However, the next day we disposed 
of as much of our merchandise as we could, and 
prepared to tcike ship for home. To cut short a long 

J story, we gathered up. our deer-skins and other eftects, 
and took them to the city of jSTevr-York, the most 
of them, and made a tolerably profitable trip, if I 
recollect rightly. 

Being now tired and sick of roving, I took a firm 
resolve to settle down in some steady business, get 

j married, and be no longer " a citizen of the world." 

f So, in the fall of 1823, I bought a lot in Frankfort, 
Herkimer County, and built a blacksmith shop and 

j ' . bell factory. There were at that time one tavern, 

; ■ one store, and a few scattered dweUings in thif, place. 

'I It was then not known as a villao-e. It is now a 
■ sprightly and rather handsome village, numberiug 
about seven hundred inhabitants. When I had got 

i; my bell factory and blacksmith shop completed and 

1 supplied with workmen, my businesa and my purse 
greatly increased. But here was in waiting for me 

i another unexpected reverse. Thert^ was then pre- 



64 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



valent in our coimtiy an epidemic — a disease of tts 
eyes. I arose one morning in March perfect!}" sound 
and healthy, but before noon I was as .bhnd as a 
post. My eyes ^^ere greatly s^Yollen with intense 
inflammation. I remained in blindness till mid- 
summer, when, by a great deal of good nursing, I 
partially recovered. In the mean time my business 
aftairs were in a state of chaos, and my shop was 
desolate ; but as soon as I was well enough, I went 
to New- York, took with me all the bells I had made, 
and an elegant large Arabian horse, beautifully 
piebald, with a large, graceful, silvery tail, nearly 
sweeping the ground, and his mane corresponding : 
but he was a lazy, clumsy traveller. I expected to 
get for him about -Sl-iO in the city; but in taking 
him from the vessel to the wharf, he, by a slip, 
lamed himself, so that it was difficult to get him in 
or out of the stable for many days. I disposed of 
my bells at once, and would gladly have left the city 
for liome, could I have disposed of my lame horse, 
which, with myself, cost me at least two dollars a 
day for maintenance. I began to feel a horse fever : 
I hunted up customei's who would come only to look 
at my horse and find fault with him, offer me some 
trifling sum for him, and walk oft. But I at length 
found a man who was buying up horses to establish 
a circus in the city. He said he would give me a 
great price for my horse if I would get him well of 
his lameness. Cheered by this prospect, I fussed 
over him ;ind doctored him until he was nearly or 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



65 



quite well. I harnessed him one day before a buggy 
and drove him gallantly down to show him to the 
circusman, my palms, meantime, itching for about 
$140. The circusman, after dri\ang him a little be- 
fore the carriage, desired to take him cut and try 
bis activity in galloping aiound a circle. So we 
drove down to a vacant piece of ground, which was 
surrounded by some old rickety houses, filled with 
the very poorest class of people. There was one 
old house with a set of dilapidated stairs, fenced in 
by some rotten bv-nsters to prevent people or other 
animals from falling into a hole about four feet deep, 
in front of the basement story, which was occupied 
by a negro family, while this hole or cavity between 
the basement and the banisters was ornamented with 
a swill-barrel and other like useful articles. An 
Irish family lived, or rather staid, above. The horse 
was taken out, and a boy mounted him, Vv'hip in hand, 
to prove his dexterity. He had nothing on his head 
but a blind-bridle and gig-rein, which served to pull 
his nose right straight up. "With the blind-bridle on, 
I he could not see where he went, but he made one 
I or two awkward evolutions. He took fright, and, 
with his nose elevated in the air, like a hog's in a 
gale of wind, ho rushed with all speed tovrards the 
above described house and gave a desperate plunge, • 
sweeping away the ola banisters as a cobweb, and 
dashing his head through the Irish woman's window, 
scattering the sash and glass tb rough her house, 
t while his fore legs knocked in the negro woman's 



CO 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPES IN THE 



window in the. same manner, at tlie same time tliat 
one of Lis hind legs was in the swill-barrel ! 11) e 
shouts of the rowdies that had gathered round, in 
concert with the vocifei'ous squalls and cursings tliat 
came from the negro nest below and the Irish wo- 
man above, rendered the s^.ene laughable and 3'et 
distressing. My horse fever was now at its height ! 
But my philosophy soon returned to my aid. I 
cooled down, got some ropes, and with the aid of 
the multitude, soon had my horse standmg on his 
cantering ground once more. ^ p^aid the da-mage 
he had done to the house, swapped him .away im- 
mediately for a cart-horse, and then sold the cart- 
horse for forty dollars, which just about paid my 
bills at the livery stable and tavern; and lastly took 
a steamboat that night, happy and thankful that I 
had got rid of him so weh. For I seldom, if ever,, 
in the whole course of my life, cried for spilled milk, 
but generally gathered np my spoon and basin, 
well pei-suaded, by some*^ bright prospect just before 
me, that it would soon be better filled. In fact, I 
have generally felt more courage at the foot of the 
hill than in any other position. Running after the 
riches of this world for the purpose of hr.ppiness 
is like a clnld seeking for pretty things at the rain- 
bow's end, Avliich seems to be just in the adjoinii^g 
field. So liope and an^bition have led men on 
from the wreck of one j^rospect to the opening of 
another — from one failure to anotlier fortune in 
prospect. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



6? 



N'o sooner had I landed at Albany that nigljt 
than I bought another large quantity of stock for 
bells. In handlmg over a lot of rusty sheet-hon, 
an I exerting myself to get my stuff shipped for 
Fianhfort that night, I Avas in a state of prc-^use 
perspiration. My object accomplished, I mounted 
the stage for Troy, whereby I took a severe cold, 
which, together widi the iron -rust, caused a relapse 
of the disease of my eyes ; and when I got out of 
the stage at Troy my eyes were terribly swollen. 
I hastened home again to my friends, suffering ex- 
cruciating pain, and entirely blind ; and I thiuk I 
lay for about three months in a dark room (rxcru- 
ciated by the inflammation of my eyes and tortured 
by my physician, until at length I was emaciated 
to a mere skeleton. My fi'iends and physician de- 
spaired of my ever again seeing the light of day, and 
indeed few, if any, expected me long to live. j\Iy 
pious mother sometimes spoke to me of my pre- 
paration for the solemn change, which was rather 
offensive to my ears, for even in this state of affairs 
I was full of hope and expectation of a speedy re- 
covery both of sight and health ; indecKl, some of 
the finest speculations were here presented to my 
v'ew, rendering a sure equivalent for all my bad 
luck. I wnll here relate two dreams that brought 
me relief in my darkest time, singular, and, as*! 
1 bought, significant. I dreamcxl that I suddenly 
died in the city of New- York, or was supposed to 
be dead, and was immediately taken and laid in a 



68 



TRIALS A>sD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



vault or sepulchre in St. Paul's cliurch-yard. I 

thought I came to life and broke open the stone of 
the sepulchre and came out, and then I saw erected 
"a tomb-stone with this inscription on it, " Sacred :o- 
the memory of George W. Henry," telling the man- 
ner of my death. I there also read four lines of 
well-measured poetry, most perfectly appropriate to 
my case, and, as I thought I read them, I awoke, 
and I think I repeated the verse to my mother, who 
was then sitting by n^y bed-side, relating to her my 
dream, and assuring her that I should soon recover. 
Tlie verse has entirely escaped from my memory. 
Again, falling asleep, I dreamed of being on the ice 
on a mill-pond, which broke in with me, and I 
thought I should have drowned had it not been for 
old Mrs. Golden, an old lady living in the neigh- 
bourhood. I then awoke and found myself high 
and dry in bed. Soon after, this same old lady 
came in and proposed a remedy for my eyes, which 
was a salve of cat-tail flag-root, and which, on trial, 
produced a speedy cure. I was soon on my legs 
again, wide awake for business. Now, reader, you 
have a right to think just as you please about the.s^ 
dreams — I only hope you wil4 suit yourself. 

My next move, after these calamities, was to 
gather together my woikmen, tools, and stocu, and 
to get my shop into full operation again. I then 
proceeded to build and finish off a two-story house, 
together with the requisite out-houses, such as barn, 
woodshed, &c., in neat and handsome order. This 



LIFE OF G. TT. HENRY. 



69 



was all done in about three months after iny re- 
covery from sickness, and my house was very neatly 
and comfortably furnished. My cousin, jliss I\Ii>7y 
Everett, a well-educated and. intelligent young lady 
of about mv ovrn age, set ray house in excellent 
order, for a young bachelor, and made it as cheerful 
a-s a bachelor's hall vrell could be, and at the same 
time rendered me great assistance in posting my 
boohs and in acting as my scribe generally. I was 
now, late in the same fall, ready to go to Xew-York 
again with a fine lot of bells, (unencitmbered by any 
Arabian horse.) which were soon disposed of to the 
hardware merchants, and a contract was made for 
about six thousand more, and stock procured for the 
same. But right here tbrtune had set another snare 
for me, baited vrith a golden prospect. There had 
just been introduced into market the fair calf- skin 
pocket-book, which sold very quick and at a laro-e 
profit. The merchants advised me to go into, tlie 
i manufacturino; of them, suo-o-estino- that there could 
I be any quantity sokl in the spring, jly bell and 
bell-stUii' contract being consummated, I soon re- 
turned home, and my first move was to prepare me 
a saddle and harness-maker's shop; hired journey- 
' men, procured stock, and set them to work at mak- 
ing saddles and harness, as I needed men that were 
acquainted with leather to assist about cutting out 
pocket-books ; this was the reason that I established 
ij this shop. My next move was to put my bell fac- 
jl tory into full operation.- About tliis time I had con- 



10 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



tracted with the superin tender) t of the canal to do 
the principal iron work on about forty miles of th() 
Erie Canal, for the State. This branch of business 
being under full headway, and. having procured my 
mHterials for pocket-boohs, I employed twelve or 
fifteen young ladies, nm?tly farmers' daughters, to 
sew the pocket-books. They all boarded with me, 
and a more respectable and comely looking party 
of young women you could scarcely wish to look 
upon. Reader, pause a moment and look back but 
six months, where you find the author making his 
way out of the* old church-yard of St Paul's, and 
rescued from the old mill-dam ; you see hira de- 
prived of sight and balancing between two worlds, 
his business afi"airs a heterogeneous m-ass of con- 
fusion : behold, and mark the change that a few 
short months have wrought, and hence learn neve- 
to despair as long as you have life, and a solitar} 
red cent and a jack-knife to jingle together. Lef 
faith and works go hand in hand in temporal aftairs 
as well as spiiitual. 

When I arose from my sickness, six months pre 
vious, from the many losses I had sufiered, I do not 
think I was worth over one hundred dollars : by the 
time five months had elapsed, I think I had my 
buildings nearly p.aid for by the profits I had received 
on my last lot of bells, and I now had in my employ 
upwards of thirty workmen, including the interest- 
ing collection of young ladies. What a field for a 
man of entei-prise, and a lady's man withal ! Be- 



LIFE OF G. W. riENRT. 



sides these yoimg ladies in my employ, my house 
was a rendezvous for all the young beaux and belles 
of the neighbourhood, and hilarity was generally the 
order of the day. I was constrained to put on as 
much gravity of look and .dignity of depoi'tment as 
I could assume, in order to preserve that order in 
the ranks which decorum as well as pecuniary con- 
siderations demanded ; still there was any quantity 
of fun and frolic to be had. In reviewing those 
yoimg ladies, then so full of mirth and apparent 
happiness, I find they have many of them gone to 
the spirit-land. But spring came on ; and by the 
time the canal opened, I had a large quantity of 
bells and pocket-books ready for market. My bells 
I readily disposed of in New- York, and made money 
on them ; but unfortunately for my pocket-books, I 
lost about as much on them as I made on my bells. 
The New-England folks had taken the hint as to the 
pocket-book speculation, (they are generally wide 
awake for novelties,) and made enough that winter 
to glut the whole market ; and the East River hav- 
ing opened about ten days earher than the Iludson, 
my Yankee neighbours had got the start of me, and 
reduced me to the unpoetical necessity of disposing 
of mine at the best rate I might, at public auction. 
Thus what I made on one lot, I lost on the other. 
But then business is business, and I had had the 
satisfaction of driving a smacking enterprise with no 
little gusto. I realized here, as many times after- 
wards, the significance of the words of the satirist 



12 



TRIALS A^'D TRIUMPHS IX THE 



" Tlio King of Fraiice went up the hill, 
And then went down again."' 

I retiirnod home, where (having dismissed mv help 
before starting for Xew-York) I tlum.l my house 
and mv shop empty and silent. Desolation brooded 
over the seene. 

" I felt like one who treads al;.'ne 

Some banquet hall deserted, 
Whose lights are tied, whose garlands dead, 

■And all but he dep:irted/' 

Or, like Richard III., I f-^It that "I never could en- 
dure an inglorious peace.'- It was like a sickening 
calm sncvi-e^-ding a rough sea. 



CHAPTER VI. 

So ox after my return from JS'ew- i' o]'k, as before re- 
lated, when desolation brooded over my earilily 
habitation, and when grim despair would have 
paralyzed the energies of a less elastic dispij-iiivU, I 
entered upon another project, vrhich, like every f(>r- 
mer undertaking, seemed to promise a fortune. I 
resolved to build a large tavern in the village of 
Frankfort, having a strong desire to build up the 
place, which was th -n in its infancy ; and it was the 
opinion of many knowing ones of my neighbours 
that another public house would be supported, there 
already being one. as before stw^ted, in the village. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



13 



Ha\ano: resolved to commence it, and knowinof tliat 
I liad not sufficient capital to complete it, I made an 
agreement with Adam I. Campbell, a resident of tlie 
place, for him to advance money and goods to a5<i>t 
me in the completion of it, at the same time placing 
all my property in his hands as an indemnity against 
any loss ; expecting, when it should be completed, 
to raise money on it by mortgage whereby to pay 
Mr. Campbell and redeem my property; and thus 
Mr. C. would turn many of his goods into money, 
at the same time that I should establish my pubKc 
house, and add much to the business and beauty of 
the place. In spite of the impediments of a rainy 
autumn, in less than three months I erected a large 
brick edifice, together with a large barn and shed, 
besides one or two other dwehing-houses, and had 
them all completed. But instead of its costing about 
$1,200, as had been estimated, it cost more than 
$2,000. Failing to mortgage it, I also failed to re- 
cover it from Mr. C.'s hands ; and he, having stopped 
payments after advanoing about half its cost, and 
leaving me to shoulder the rest of the deut without 

^ anything pay with, still holds on to the property 

I to tho present day. 

1 At this time I tliink n-.y dr^bis in Hip viV • ! 
I Dot exceed one hun.jre.l and ildv ^lAV.v^:. 
, this debt to Mr. Camphrh ; and tlipse ^vere owing 
i to honest and industrious inochanics, and it is oTcatlF 
i to be, regretted that some of them remain uijijaid to 
the present time, • But I wa:: : y i : ;Ied. by one of 



14: 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS m THE 



my principal debts in the city of iS'ew-York, to " take 
the be-nefit of the act " to prevent a merciless ca. sa., 
as the lawyers call it, from consigning me to the 
walls of a debtor's prison, or restricting my residence 
within the " Hmits," among a set of lazy loafers — an 
im.pleasant alternative, it is true, for an honest man, 
but one which a man of my habits of life, v>dio loved 
action and his personal hbeity as I did, could not 
hesitate to choose. Yet I resolved, before taking 
the benefit of the act, to mdke one more eftbrt to 
pay my debts without being reduced to that hu- 
miliating necessity. I went to Herkimer and united 
with Mr. William Small in making up a large quan- 
tity of cow-bells. He was to find the materials and 
I to do the work. 

I worked faithfully during that winter, and turned 
out a large quantity of fine bells, while all the stock 
and bells, meantime, were in the hands of Mr. S., 
with a private understanding between us that I 
should have all the profits arising from the sale of 
them, to pay my honest liabilities, ho standing be- 
tween me and my merciless creditor. But it finally 
turned out much like the fable of the two travellers, 
who found an oyster, and submitted the question of 
title to an ingenious lawyer, they being unable to 
settle the point between themselves ; tlie lawyer, you 
remember, took out his jack-knife, opened the oyster, 
swallowed the meat himself, and gave each disputant 
a shell for his share, which was doubtless very satis- 
factory to both. So it happened, with the debtor 



LIFE OF G. \V. HEXRY. 



?5 



aiKl creditor in this case, as well in regard to the 
"brick house, as the bell contract; they could both 
have said, in reference to the matter, "blessed be 
nothing and had I been called upon to give up 
the ghost just then, I could have said, like Job, that 
I came naked into the world, and naked I should go 
out. I vv^as compelled, painful as it was, after all 
my toil and anxiety, to avoid such a result, to tak6 
the benefit of the act. I therefore filed my bond, 
advertised in the newspapers for three months, and 
prepared to set sail for the Lackawaxen Canal, in Penn- 
sylvania, where I should be earning some money, and 
at the saniv^ time be as ilir removed as possible from 
the taunts and sneers and curses of a certain class 
of public-spiriied gentlemen, who are generally seen 
sitting in tavern-porches, and v>dio drink rum, smoke 
cigars, and swear lustily, and to show their philan- 
thropy and abhorrence of dishonesty, are usually 
engaged in descanting upon the demerits, and mak- 
ing slanderous observations of th^ir industrious 
neighbours ; and if one of these has been so unfor- 
tunate as to fail in business, no matter how upriglit 
and honest may have been the whole tenor of his 
course, these tavern-haunting gossips will be heard 
loudly lamenting how much they have sufifered by 
such failure, and pleading the same in excuse for the 
non-payment of their tailor, board, and tavern bills. 

It has ever been one of the greatest mysteries to 
me, how so many of the above-mentioned characters 
pass so easily through life, generally well di-essed 



76 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IK THE 



and f:it, while they scarcely make an effort above 
that of Yv^hittling a shingle, or picldng their teeth, 
that have fed on other people's earnings ; and at the 
same time the industrious and deserving, by inces- 
sant toil and frugality, can scarcely get a comforta- 
ble living. But then I am satisfied that the vr ell- 
clad loafer is more justly an object of pity than of 
envy ; the beggar in rags is a gentleman compared 
v/ith the l3eggrir in fine cloth, for the latter combines 
in liimself the knave with the mendicant — -a most 
unv/orthy compound— a composition, however, iku- 
ally met v^^ith in your bar-room brawlers and village 
gossips. 

But in my case was fnlfilled the old adage — 
^' Fools build houses, and wise men live in them 
for of all my acquaintance, I know of no individual 
vrho could go through the United States and show 
more houses of his own construction, and shops, 
steam-mills and vrater-mihs, besides rail-roads, canals, 
lumbering, than myself; and now, after all, at 
the meridian of life, I have not so much as a shingle 
to whittle, of Vvdiich I can claim the fee simple. 
But in all these circumstances, I have realized that 

" Hope swells cfcernaL in the human breast; 
Man never is, Lut always to be blest." 

At the time of Avhich I was speaking, a fine 
speculation was presented at the South to engage 
myself on the public works ; but the ways and means 
for ti-ansporting myself to the new land of promise 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



in 



were to be devised ; and to effect this, I was reduced 
to tlie mortifying necessity of disposing of all that 
remained to me of the wi*eck of my fortune — how 
greatly to the humblin g of my military pride I My 
martial equipmerts I sold to Edward Davds, Esq., 
one of my lieutenants. This recahs to my mind 
another one of my feats of folly. I had just re- 
turned from sittmg as one of the board of Court 
Martial of the regiment, as my masons laid the last 
cap-stone of the brick house, and it was agTeed by 
tbem that I should stand erect on the top battle- 
ment in full uniform, and take a bottle of liquor in 
hand, drink a toast, give three cheers, and throw 
the bottle, which was very readily complied with. 
While I thus stood, plumed like a peacock, had any 
one told me that in a few days I should be obliged 
to sell the very clothes that were then upon my 
back, and the epaulets that graced my shoulders, to 
bear my expenses in travelling out of sight of the 
very building I had toiled so Lard to erect, and 
which I was then honouring with a toast. I can 
hardly say whether it would have raised my 
dander,'' or moved me to laughter at his presump- 
tion I But, ah me I how little do we know what a 

! day 'may bring forth ! Military pride, manly ambi- 
tion, even the glory itself of this world, all, all are 
the sport and playthings of fortune. 

All things being packed up for my departure, I 
bade adieu to all my friends and buildings, and 

I very soon found myself engaged in superintending 



TS TRIALS AXD TRIU^IPH5•I^: THK 

laiourers on tlie Lackawaxen. at thirty dollars a 
moiitli and Loard. lov Little;] C'hn Bellinger. It 
^vas in a vidldei'n-^s o juniry. H-rre I continued till 
tlie time arrivL-:l tbr my return to Frantfon, to attend 
to mv in^C'lven^y matters. But here tate had pre- 
pared anc'th-r sore disappointment an ;I grievous mis- 
fortune for me, just before I was ready to return to 
Frankfort. I was suddenly seized wim an acute in- 
flammation of the c-yes. by which. v>dth the mal- 
treauiient of a Cjuack d-jctor. I entirely lost my I'io-ht 
eye within two days from the time I was first taken, 
and I have never seen e^ui r-f it trom that day to 
this : the coatings of tlie eye broke, and the humours 
ran out. I came back, however, enduring severe 
pain. arranLTt-d my business, and r-^c '-vrred ]nv health 
a little. I hastened to th.? South again, aiid in less 
than two mco::h- had un_be ::n:io.ct me>re than 
twenty Lhou>and >d:elars wo::,, workcai the Juniata 
(Jan ah in the soutlonai ]:'art C'f Pennsylvania, with 
little else than my iace te* recommend me at that 
time. I had three locks to build *. my credit was 
about as good as any other man's for aU I had need 
of, and I was soon under full headway, with biiglit 
prospects of clearing about three thousand debars ; 
and what made it more cheeiing. I was hoping to 
be able to pay all my honest debts in this country. 

By unth'ing application I bitilt one lock, the first 
on the line, and never did I perform a piece of work 
more faithfully and honestly than I did that lock. 
But, says the reader, I hope bad hick did not attend 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXrvT. 



19 



you here, too ? But I am sorry to tell you, tliat 
when hope was the highest, and my prospects the 
brightest, ^ite here again crossed my path. I took 
the contract under De "Witt Chnlon, jr., son of Gov- 
ernor Clinton, who was chief engineer, and a particnlar 
friend of mine. The lock was partly built up und-^r 
his supervision ; but the canal cc)mniiss:onors and 
he disanreed, and he left the line. There was i^e- 
placed in his stead a little, contemptible, petty tyrant, 
who had once or twice rubbed his back against tlie 
rocks at West Point. Soon there commenced a 
civil, or rather an uncinl war between the contractors 
and canal commissioners. The only weapon used, 
however, both offensive and defensive, was the 
tongue, that unruly member, which is full of poison. 
About one-half of the contractors were Xew-Yr)rk 
men ; and there were envy and jealousy awaki.Micd 
in the breasts of the Pennsylvanians against Clinton 
and his princi] >al assistant, Wrn. 11. Morell, who vras 
also a Xew- Yorker, or Yankee, as we were called, 
charging them with being partial to their ov/n 
countrymen, both in bestowing work and in grant- 
ing indulgences; and ' - - - one of the reasons 
that Clinton and Mor ^ ^ canal. 

As is common in such cases, each patty took up 
for their friends, and here is the only charge I bring 
against myself in the whole transaction. Tv'r'rh Tvas 
the cause of the sad disaster wliich fo]. ;id 
that is, that I took so cons])icuous a part in beLalf 
support of Clinton and Moiell ciguinst the c.:nai 
6 



80 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



commissioners, who I knew were men too noble 
and higli-mindecl to be justly subject to sucli charges 
as were brongbt against them. But there is no re- 
sisting successfully public clamour, or what is called 
public opinion ; law, equity, innocerr^e, a'll are in- 
sufficient for this, when the mujtitude cry, " Crucify 
him ! crucify him :'' So it happened with Clinton 
and liis friends : ho was obliged to give way, as be- 
fore stated, to this small tyrant, chosen by the com- 
missioners as a cat's paw in their handis, to punish 
the friends of Mr. Clinton with. 

During the period of this warfare, I had finished 
the lock in question from bottom to top, both neat 
and strong, and was then entitled to receive therefor 
§2,700. But instead of mj receiving that, as was 
my due, there was pronounced an edict by this 
petty tyrant, like that pronounced against the tem- 
23le and walls of Jerusalem, that not one stone should 
be left upon another. He must see the bottom 
com^se of it, giving as a reason that he was deter- 
mined to see all the important work on the line 
rearedc up under his immediate eye. This inflicted 
a wound upon my prosperity, which was never fully 
Ileal ed. A contrcict v>dth the Commonwealth had 
been drawn up in the most aristocratic form, bind- 
ing tlie 'contractor to strict obedience to the will of 
the engineer having charge of the work ; so that any 
omission or neglect on the part of the contractor, 
whether real or imaginary, subjected ids conti'act 
to forf.'Iture, according to the caprice of this lordlinij 



LIFE OF G. Vr. HEXRY. 



81 



cliief, whose word was tlie end of the law, though 
not in riorhteousness : and one -fifth of all the money 
esthnated on the job was forfeited besides, which 
was denominated a retain percentage. This is re- 
tained by the Statp as a guaranty for the perform- 
ance of the undertaking. For instance, should a 
contractor do a thousand dollars' worth of work 
every month, he is paid but eight hundred dollars 
for it ; so if a man had a contract of fifty thousand 
dollars, when the job is completed, the State retains 
in its hands ten thousand of it, which is used as a 
rod to hold over him until the final completion of 
his engagement, to compel him to yield to the re- 
quirements of the State, for this is always subject to 
forfeiture. 

I am more particular on this subject than I would 
otherwise be, for the reason that so many wonders 
are made that contractors do not become weaitliy 
in doing so much business, and handling so much 
money; and, if possible, to relieve myself from the 
odium I have been subjected to by a great many of 
my friends and acquaintances, who are so ppt to 
judge and condemn without knowing anything of 
the merits of the case. So you see I was reduced 
to this dilemma — either to pull dovrn my lock lud 
build it over ; or to walk oif and leave my job, and 
my workmen and creditors unpaid. But you laiow 
it is said, What can't be cured must be endured,*' 
GO I pulled down the lock ; but before it was rebuilt, 
a reaction took place in consequence of this and 



82 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



many like flagrant assumptions of power, and the 
pigmy tyrant and his sycophantic assistant were 
fairly scouted from the country by the same public, 
and an honourable man took his place by the name 
of James FerQ-uson, under whom I finished mv 
work ; and with much difficulty I made out to pay 
my debts, and I found myself in a safe position at 
the bottom of the hill. In this contract I realized 
how true is the proverb of the wise man : He that 
meddleth with strife belonging not to him, is like 
one that taketh a dog by the ears." 

Here I mio*ht tell the reader of an adventure I 
had at a place called Tuckahoe, at the headwaters 
of the Juniata, among the Alleghany mountains, 
where I had gathered up about eighty rafts of tim- 
ber preparatory to launching, after the river should 
have cleared of ice in the spring; and how there 
came an unusual deluge and swept my lumber down 
the stream and lodged it together, mixed up with 
other rubbish ; and what difficulty I had in getting 
it down to the place of destination. But let us pass 
on to something of greater moment, and more in- 
teresting. And I woukl have my kind reader mark 
as we pass, the sore disappointments that are con- 
cealed in almost every glittering prize of which am- 
bition is in pursuit. He shall see that it is almost 
true that 

*• Efiuli plep.siire lias its poison too, 
And every sweet its 2,i>cktc/* 

Althougti I now found myself, as I had often boforo 



UFE OF a. IIEXRT. 



S3 



been, at tlie foot of tlie hill, out of money, and ont 
of the good graces of the canal commissioners, in 
consequence of mv zeal in the cause of my friend 
Clinton, yet they were forced to acknov,dedge me to 
be a good contractor, and that not one man in 
tv/enty would have borne up under my embarrass- 
ments without fainting, or would have attempted to 
finish the work as I had done. But I drew up a 
petit' jn to the Legislature of Pennsylvania, asking 
remuneration for the wrongs and loss I had sus- 
tained from the flagitious act of Alexander Twining, 
the chief engineer. I rigged up in a first-rate suit 
of clothes, went to Harrisburgh, took lodgings at the 
first hotel in town, and, as it happened, one of the 
Canal Commissioners was my chum, and, by-the- 
way, a very clever, social man. It was not long 
before I was reinstated in the o'ood p-races of the 

o o 

whole Board ; and Vvdien our hearts became well 
mellowed by the softening influence of champagne, 
all were brouodit on a level too-ether, when all disfni- 
ties and titles were laid imder the table : not that 
the dignitaries themselves were laid under the table, 
but their dignities only ! In this state of the case 
I chose, rather as an accident, to introduce my claim, 
I and in such an Unguarded moment you know almost 
I any man may be brought to terms. It was wlien 
Artaxerxes was vfell filled with wine tliat N^ehemiali 
pressed his claim, and received a grant, not only of 
j permission, but money also, to rebuild the walls of 
I Jerusalem. I got mj first bill through both branches 



i 



SI- 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS TN THE 



of the Legislature. But it was reduced nearly one- 
lialf the amount I was entitled to by a portion of 
the members who were inaccessible, and vvhose 
governing principle of action was, " Keep ^vliat you 
get, and get wliat you can.'' But still it was a 
profitable winter to nie, in many respects ; I not 
only listened to the debates of both houses, but 
made the acquaintance of tlie governor and many 
of the principal men of the State and nation, to 
whom I should not otherwise have had access. 
Here I learned, much of human nature ; and from 
what I saw here, and from my general acquaintance 
wdth all grades of mankind, from a pem^y whistle 
up to a German flute, I am constrained to conclude 
that Sam Slick's opinion of society may generally 
be relied on as correct. Sam says he found society 
very much like pickled pork — the bottom pieces a 
little rusty, the tip-top pieces somewhat tainted : 
but the best and sweetest of the pork is generally 
found in the middle layers of the barrel. This is, 
of course, but a general rale, both as to the pork 
SiU'l as to society, and is subject to exceptions. 

In the winter of 1831 the Legislature of Penn- 
sylvania granted a loan of upwards of two milhons 
of dollars for the extension of rail-roads and canals 
in the State, and there Avas soon thrown into the 
mailcet a large quantity of work. The iirst was a 
rail-road to cross the Alleghany Mountains — the 
most gigantic work of the kind in tlie United States 
— a distance of thirty-six miles, commencit]^ at 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRT. 



85 



Hollidaysburgh, at tlie head of the Juniata Canal, on 
the eastei n side of the mountains, and ending on the 
west side of the village of Johnstown — thus connect- 
ing the line of canals from Philadelphia to Pitts- 
burgh . The aggregate cost of this rail-road, includ- 
ing materials, on an average, was forty-four thousand 
dollars per mile. The time for letting contracts was 
at hand, and the time for me to make another rush 
for fortune. Well knowing that I had but little 
capital to begin with, I proposed, nevertheless, for a 
hirge quantity of work, believing that I had the en- 
tire confidence and friendship of the canal commis- 
sioners, who had the .allotment of the work ; and 
they proved their friendship by gi^^ng me nine 
miles of the above road to construct, and in addi- 
tion to this, upwards of one million feet of white-oak 
timber, to deliver for the use of the Common wx^alth. 
Here was a golden prospect for me. I coukl take 
my pencil, and figure out a fortune of ten or fifteen 
thousand dollars, clear gain, to be realized at the 
completion of this job, and not a cloud of doubt 
overshadowed the prospect. "Well, says the reader, 
I hope we shall see the end of this job without the 
interference of that old arch-foe. Bad Luck. I thank 
you, my kind friend, for your good wishes ; but you 
will learn, as you pass with me through the job, as 
we h^ve so many times seen, how true it is that 

" Disappointment lurks in many a prize, 

A.S bees in flowers, and stings us with success.'* 

And here my disappointment came from a source 



8a 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



imlooked for by the most sagacious. Misfortune, 
like deatb, comes to us in many wa^-s and many 
forms, and often -when we least anticipate its pres- 
ence, and finds us in the very act of crying peace 
and safety. It is now a mystery to me how I could 
have put so much work into active motion, at once, 
without any capital to speak of, and rising, as I did, 
immediately fro^n the wreck of former undertakings, 
like a phcenix from the ashes of its sire ; for I had 
not, at this time, to begin all this work, a capital 
exceeding 8300 — a work embracing the puUing 
down of mountains, the filling up of valleys, hui:;.- 
bling the stately forests around me, btiikling mills, 
stores, houses, (fee, necessary to commence so im- 
portant a job. I was connected in business with no 
one ; but in less than two months from the time I 
took the contract, I had a deed of a farm costing 
about 83,000, built a saw-mill on it, and had five 
new mills running night and day ; had twelve yoke 
of oxen, and several teams of horses of my own, all 
actively engaged in forwarding timber to the mills, 
and a large number of men in the woods engaged 
in preparing the timber : veiy soon I had a large 
store erected and filled with goods. I then erected 
a number of sliops for blacksmiths, wagon-makers, 
tailors, <fec., and had them in active operatior » My 
next move was to build several shanties, furnish 
them with men, tools, and provisions, and within 
three months from the date of my contract all the 
above was accomplished by a stranger in a stranga 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. S? 

ccyantiy, with a capital not exceeding §300 I acd 
"where but a few days before was notliing but a 
gloomy wilderness waste, all was now life and birsi- 
ness. This may indeed seem something like brag- 
ging, b^:t yet it is only a plain, literal representation 
of fe-c^^ It really may be surprising to my reader — • 
j it is so to myseli^ — that I could command, under 
j sucii circumstances, such unbounded cuntidonce and 
c?edit. ^ ' " troops thus orderly arranged, 

I and the v;..:., . ,:::ery in harmonious operation, 
we moved steadily and proiitably on without one 
I jarring discord, receiving an estimate every month 
more than enough to pay all expenses over and 
above the one-fifni retained by the State, until the 
whole job was abotit half finished. 

The day being appointed to receive the monthly 
estimate, all the contractors gathered together as 
^ usual to receive their monev from the^sunerintendent ; 
j but, to their astonishment, they were told by him 
j that there was no money in the locher. Here my 
1! old foe, my constant attendant thus far, grovm to an 
enormous size and most formidable in appearance, 
' bolted once more tmexpectedly into my patln and 
really hideous were now the features of Bad Ltick. 
it is said that it is better to be born to good Itick 
than to a great foittme ; but I seemed to have been 
born to neither. Indeed, it would seem that I was 
' a leopitimate heir to Bad Luck, and that he v>'as 
! about to lawlsh on me all his inheritance ; but not 
j! BO in reality, for even in this hour of trouble I might 



1 



S8 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



liavc had the consolation of the benevolent old wo- 
man, who thanked God that her neighbcnrs had lost 
their cows as v/ell as she hers ; and strange as it may 
appear, it is notorious how misery often seeks misery, 
as a companion consolatory in her distresses. Man- 
kind are very apt to record blessings on the sand, 
Dut misfortunes on tables of marble. But to lud^ro 
justly, we should weigli our ii'oubh^s in one scale 
and our blessings in tlie other, and I tlviuk v/e shall 
have vastly more cause for gratitude than grief. 
"SVe should ' 

Judge not tlie Lord by feehle seiise, 
But trust him for his grace ; 
Eeliind a frowning providence 
Ke liides a smiling face." 

I ask pardon for straying so far from the direct 
line of my narration. Let us return to the top of 
the Alleghanies, where we were told bv the super- 
intendent that Ave must return home wiUout an 
estimate, tliere to meet one hundred and fifty la- 
bourers and as mau}^ formers with their wives, each 
presenting liis bill and pi'cssing his claim for pay- 
ment, telhng the contractor that he was in the hands 
of the slieriff or constable, and would be thrust into 
jail unless lie could receive his due, to mojet his 
liabihties ; and then to meet here and there the 
wife of an Iidshman, saying that she had ^' not so 
much as a patatT/ in the house for two days and 
almost evary one presenting a diversified claim — • 
the poor contractor, meantime, being forced to put 



LIPE OF G. W. HENEY. 



89 



them off as best he toight know how by assuring 
'^nd convincmg them against their will that better 
itimes were just at hand, ^vliile one-half wouill get 
drunk (sn the spur of the disappointment and have 
(fo row, and the rest would curse their employer for 
trying to cheat them out of their wages. 

Now a merchant or a banker may f^iil for $50,000, 
Bnd have less trouble and occasion less noise about 
It than a contractor or any other man who owes 
'&500 in little bills scattered through community and 
Kvho fails to meet them promptly ; and there is as 
much difference in the anguish experienced in these 
two positions, as there would be in being blown to 
atoms at the mouth of a cannon, or being devoured 
\hj a swarm of musquitoes. 

But, says the reader, what is the reason you did 
mot get your estimate ? Hereon hangs a chain of 
circumstances- pregnant with momentous results. 
From the effect let us trace the cause. The super- 
jintehdent tells the contractor that there is no money 
!5n his hands, giving as a reason that there is none 
'in the State treasury ; go to the State treasurer, and 
jihe would tell you that Pennsylvania, with all her 
I'boasted wealth and internal resources, could not 
jboiTow a dollar on the State credit — assio-nino^ as the 
reason that a war had been proclaimed by General 
Jackson, then President of the United States, and 
j|his adherents against the United States Bank, and 
I that that moneyed monster had shut its huge jaws 
Ippon all moneyed opert. ions . throughout the Uniou 



90 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

—tlie Bant yielding ac- its apology for the wide- 
spread dismay and ruin it was thus occasioning 
tlirongliont the nation that the general L:;d ".tlIi- 
drawn ii'om its voracious maw the United Saucs 
deposits, and that he and Biddle were already m 
"battle array against each other, the one a candidate 
for a reelection to the presidency, the other doing 
desperate battle for a recharter of the Bank tor 

twenty —die linal i-s;r ^ ' - ^ y,^ 

next yc..r l..^ ballot-box. -..i^x: ..:;d 

declared to the people in his messages his determined 
and nncompromising hostility to that institution, 
setting forth its dangfrous corruptions and controlling 
power, and thus bringing the issue definitely before 
the people for their determination — either to approve 
or condemn the general's views and doings — anl 
upon the result of the election, it was well mi'hrr- 
stood, v\-as suspended the fate of the Bank. And 
in the council of war held by the commander-in- 
chief of tlie banh pai'ty, Xick Biddle, and his sub-! 
ordinates, it was doubtless resolved that coercivej 
measures should be resorted to, by which their! 
power shoubl bo fnlt by tlic people on whom de- 
volved the decision of the strife, and thtis to de- 
monstrate that tli^ Bank had the power as well a^3 
the disposition either to rule or ruin the country 
Therefore every couiili / bank, as well as every cotton, 
iron, or other manufacturing establishment, indebted | 
to the Bank, it was decreed, should be required forth - ' 
with to pay ail their dues, unless the Bank should 



LIFE OF G. W. HSKEY. 



91 



be recliartered. Consequently almost every country 
bank was soon forced to suspen;:! specie-payments, 
to cease to discount, and to gather in their debts as 
soon as possible — all trembling in fear of the ex- 
asperated monster. In regard to Pennsylvania, it 
was most likely resolved in the same council that her 
business enterprises should be reduced to starvation, 
well knowing that her citizens were nearly two to 
one in favour of Jackson. She was most especially 
to be " held in durance vile," — and so it proved ; for 
she was not able to borrow a siuo-le dollar till after 
the election to pay off her thousands of suffering 
contractors and labourers; consequently the man 
that had the mo«t business on hand was the greatest 
sufferer. 

But I was like a teamster that gets stalled with 
his load in the deep mud-hole, where he finds it 
easier to haul it through by main force than to back 
out; so I applied all mj energies, and forced my 
job through on my own credit and the credit of my 
friends, who nobly stood bv me in this trviii?::; time. 
About the' time the work was completed the money 
came, but not quite enough to meet evei'y demand ; 
for after the mr)ney had f^^Jled my burliness com- 
manded me, and I had to do as I could and not as 
I would. Many pressed t-lieir claims so eagerly, 
that my farm a-nd houses were at length sold by tlie 
shei-iff at a great sacrifice, although they were bought 
in by a friend at something le^s than $9,000. I 
will not detain the reader by detaihng the miseries 

l> 



§2 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



that pervaded tlie vrhole line to a greater or less 
extent. SniBce it to say, tliat perplexities malti]}l:id 
on every hand. 

But, as I about reniavMng, my estimate fell 
short about 83,000 of paving my debts ; and here 
I found myself again in my old position down at the 
foot of the hill, with a burden of debt of about three 
thousand dollars upon mv bach — a v/oful load to at- 
tempt to climb with. And here again I beset the 
Pennsylvania Legislature by petition for a claim, 
well bached up, of ten thousand dollars. I spent 
the follovring vrinter in importuning the legislature. 
I succeeded in obtaining on my lumber bill about 
|2,700 — the other and principal part of my bill was 
postponed to the nex: Here I made a great 

mistake in the dis]jG^iauii I made of that money. 
Instead of squaring up all my debts and quitting 
the ])lace, I imdertook to redeem my fovourite place, 
which had been sacriiiced imder a forced sale: this 
I did, hoping to receive the other portion of my 
claim now in the hands of the legislature. So I got 
the place back into my hands, with the understand- 
ing with my creditors that their debts should be 
secured by the form. I now built in this place a 
large and splendid tavern, and fitted it up with every 
needful accommodation ; I arranged also a capacious 
and beautifid garden, with swings and various other 
things to amuse and attract company. I vras soon 
doing a smacking bivsiness, and daily breakAisted 
from fifty to a hundred passengers^ who were cross- 



LIFE 0¥ G. "W. EEXRY. 



93 



ing tlie mountains in the cars. I had now made 
quite a spirited and • -us-ness-like ^'il]age at the foot 
of the A' ; \ ; tains, four miles west of 

Hohdav- ..v^^^ -:on County, Pa., on which 

was conferred my name, and it was called Kenrys- 
burgh, and of which I was the postmaster. 

But a mighty chaiige came over the poUtical face 
of the legislature, which soon cast a corresponding 
change " over the spirit of my dreams." The Jack- 
son, or democratic ranks, which had not been broken 
in that State for twenty rears, were now divided 
among themselves, not as to principle, but as to a 
candidate for governor. Taking advantage of this 
distraction in the democratic party, the whig*s and 
anti-masons united and elected Joseph Ritner, on 
anti-masonic principles. The Board of Canal Com- 
missionersv who were my fiiends, and who doubtless 
would have assisted me in oitaining my claim, were 
turned out, to give place to another Board, of whom 
I could expect anything in the world but favours ; 
and the same was true of the legislature. Indeed, 
the State was, at this time, so involved, that it was 
chffieult to realize an undisputed account. So I lost 
my principal bill, and, consequently, was obliged, 
afto; all, to assign everything I had. for the use of 
my creditors. I was now once more entirely freed 
from the encumbrance of money and business, and 
I cast one long, lingering look upon my favourite 
place, and sought for a fortune elsewhere, not in the 
least discouraged, promising myself great success io 



94 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



my next undertaking. In view of all this panting 
of ambition! nnsnccessful panting after wealth and 
gi'eatness, who would not acknowledge that — 

He that holds fast the golden mean, 
And T7alk3 contentedly between 

The little and tlie great, . ■ 

Feels not the ^\ a,nts.that pinch the poor, 
Kor cares that haunt the rich man's door, 

Corrupting all his state." 



CHAPTER YII. 

IiiE reader was informed, in the last chapter, that 
the democratic ranks, for the first time in tvventy 
3;ears, bad been broken and routed, and that the 
Yvhigs and anti-masons held the power, haviEg at 
their head an nutomaion governor and a majority in 
the House of Assembly ; but the democrats had a 
majority of tvro in the Senate, on wdiich the democ- 
racy relied as a guardian of their cherished rights. 
It has been said that every man has his price set 
upon himself, and, that being offered, he is bought. 
AYhether this is so or not, I Avill hot take it upon 
myself to say ;. but of this I am sure, that there is 
too much of that spirit amongst politicians, if not 
amongst otiiers, that prompted Judas to say to the 
Jews : " What will you give me and I will dehver 
liim unto you?" As soon as this legislature had 
become fairly organized, a bill was matured for a 



LIFE OF a. W. HEKRY. 



05 



charter of a bank, to be called tlie United States 
Bank of Pennsylvania, with, a capital oi tbirty-five 
irillions — tlie very Sc.me institution, in reality, that 
had" so furiously contended vvith General Jackson, 
and that had been twice so sigiiificantly condemned 
by the people,, in the triuiXi pliant reelection of the 
old hero, and in the elevation to the Presidency of 
Van Buren, who was pledged to the same hostihty 
against the Bank, and that had been still more em- 
phatically condemned, if possible, by Pennsylvania 
herself. K"otvdthstahding these repeated expressioits 
of popular will, the hydra-headed monster was again 
careering in the field, taking a veiy diflx^rent course 
from what it had under its former charter from the 
United States. Instead of applpng the screvrs to 
coerce obedience, a very opposite motive principle 
^7as brought to bear by the Bank upon the men of 
iniluence : the question probably wtiS, How much 
will you ask as a consideration for voting for the 
bill, offering a bonus of two millions for the us.e of 
public vvorks ? The supposed enemies of the bill 
were asked : Y\^hat do your constituents want ? We 
want a railroad, a turnpike, a bridge in our county 
---and I want it to accommodate my furnace, mill, 
or store, &c. By arrangements like these, w^herein 
the cupidity of men instead of their patriotism was 
consulted, the proposed charter was hurried through 
both branches of the legislature, and signed by the 
governor, before the people had an opportunity to 
remonstrate. And, in order to sprinkle every indi- 



06 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



vidua], ricli and poor, with golden dew, one hundred 
thousand dollars a year, for twenty years, was to be 
contributed by the Banh as a part of the bonus to 
the State for school purposes ; and thus was old 
Pennsylvania gulled. Who, alas ! is able to esti- 
mate the force of a golden engine with a motive 
power of thirty- live millions of dollars ? It is able 
to crush everything but revolutionary virtue — sub- 
due everything but the invincible integrity of true 
patriotism, such as was exemplified in the whole 
public career of Old Hickory. ISTo^V this two million 
bonus v/as not given directly to the State, although 
it was so supposed by the mass of the people ; but 
the Bank was to subscribe for stock of all these tri- 
fling railroads, to run, if possible, to^the very door of 
every friend of the Bank. Hence started up numer- 
ous railroad corporations, the Bank being the princi- 
pal subscriber for stock. 

This brought a world of work into market for 
contractors: and here again fortune spread her 
golden prospects before me, and invited me to em- 
bark once more in an enterprise for W(}alth, with 
which invitation I readily complied, having about 
one hundred and fifty dollars in money and a good 
suit of clothes ; and I will assure my reader, if good 
clothes are ever necessary to recommend a man, it 
is when he is at the foot of the hill and out at the 
pocket. To be poor is bad enough in all conscience ; 
but to be poor, and to look poor at the same time, 
makes a bad matter considerably worse. If a man 



LIFE OF G. Vr. HENRY. 



97 



IS only known to be ricli amongst his neigliboiii*s or 
in the community where he Kves, any kind of rags 
will look well — nay, they will almost be regarded as 
ornaments npon him ; and thus many lich men are 
prouder in rags than in fine clothes. But clothes do 
much to give a man position and credit among men ; 
as Dr. Young has said : — 

** Fools indeed drop th.e man in their account, 
And vote the mantle into majesty." 

Amongst other raih'oacis, there was one laid out 
running from Harrisburgh to Hagerstown, in Mary- 
land, a distance of seventy miles, through what is 
kno^vn as the Ciunberland Valley, Mng between the 
north and south mountain. This va]Iey con^tains 
the richest hmestone-land in the United States, 
under a high state of cultivation. Here the northei'ii 
man, as he passes through this beautiful valley, 
feasting his eyes on those splendid and maguiScent 
farms that lie on either side, cultivate 1 v 'vh taste 
and decorated with stately and ne^itly-linislied brick 
or stone barns, is filled with admiration. 

There were two distinct comr-anies inc^jrporated 
to construct this road, one called the Cumberland, 
and the other the Franklin Railroad Company — the 
latter crossing- over into Marylan»:l. I contracted 
with the Frankhn Company to furnish all the timber 
required on that road, and to make a part of the 
track. Here I again foimd myself in business to my 
h^t's G&ntent. I ]jut in opei alien twenty or \Mriy 



98 TEIALS A>'D TRIUMPHS IX THE 

saw-mills, bought a tract of land, and built a steam 
saw-mill thereon — and everythmg was now moving 
on gaily, and success seemed certain. But bad luck 
to the man proscribed by fate, as death to the 
devotee of pleasure, 

"Like a staunch murderer, steady to his purpose, 
Pursues him close thi'ough every lane of life, 
Xor misses once the track." 

So here, as heretofore, I was confi'onted by my old 
familiar foe. What is wrong now, do you • ask ? 
Why, nothing more than that the huge monster 
had again shut his destroying jaws — Bid die's 
" Great Regulator," the United States Bank of 
Pennsylvania, had suspended specie pajrments, and 
every country bank followed suit, and refused to dis- 
count — the gold of the country was cankered and 
the paper moth-eaten — the currency of the country 
was worse than mildewed and coiTupted — every 
business man, and every httle, contemptible, irre- 
sponsible corporation was forced to issue shin-plas- 
ters," or they did the same for gain, and thus the 
poor contractor on the pubhc works was doomed to 
embarrassments and miseries like those of the former 
panic, when the deposits were removed. 

But to dispose of a long story as briefly as may 
be, it shall suffice to say that I finished the contract 
through all these troubles, sued the corporation for 
the balance due to me ; and we have at this very 
day a judgment against them, on the record of the 
Hag^rstown court, for thirty-three hunvked doHrirs.j 

i 



IIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



At tlie time judgment was obtained, the Great 
Begulator " liad smashed — her bills worth only four 
cents on the dollar ; and I do not know that I could 
get this day ten dollars for the above judgment. 
At the same time that I had the Franklin contract, 
I had also a contract with the Tide -Water Canal 
Company, to furnish locust timber for forty-five 
miles of said canal, and I performed it, and made 
money in the operation. But this company, im- 
mediately" after, failed, and was not able to redeem 
its scrip, which had flooded the country, and of 
which my father-in-law allowed $1,000 to die in his 
hands. Mr. Biddle's bank was a large stockholder 
in this canal. 

During this period, or rather previous to it, I 
furnished a large quantity of locust timber for the 
city of Philadelphia and that neighbourhood. But 
I will not trouble the reader with any of my small, 
commonplace business operations. 

About these days there was another letting of 
work, by the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Company, 
borderino; on the Potomac river. The lettino- ^vas 
in the city of Washington.. My reputation as a 
thoroup'h-o'oino^ contractor was known to that com- 
pany, — that when I began a job there was no back- 
ing out till it was finished. I could, therefore, compete 
for work with any contractor in the United States ; 
and there was allotted to me, by this company, about 
i forty thousand dollars worth of work. I suppose 
1 I have already weaiied the patience of my kind 



100 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS I^T THE 

reader, in leading him through the labyrinth of 
my troubles and reverses — and you have probably 
already said, Deliver me from the life of a contractor. 
I shall, therefore, be as brief as possible. Suffice it 
to say, that this contract vv^as finished in due time 
and in good order, and the final estimate v^as ready 
to be drawn. My partner, V7ho then lived at the 
south, resolved to cheat me out of my share. I' 
anticipated his wicked designs, and attached the 
estimate, v/hich was $5,800, payable in canal scrip, 
which was then nearly at par. This hung the money 
up in the hands of the Commissioner, so that neither 
could receive it without mutual consent, or till the 
decision of the Court of Chancery. I proposed to 
him, at the same time, to leave it out to any three 
men to settle for us, and we to abide the result. 
But he,^in league with his lawyer and the Canal 
Commissioner that held -the money, chose to fight 
it out. Although contrary to the order of court, 
the}^ divided a portion of the money among them- 
selves, to gamble and shave with, and to war with 
me until the court should decide in my favour, as 
they could have no reason to doubt would be the 
case, for the case wds so palpable and plain. Hero 
was probably as unholy a trio of infidel blacklegs 
us were ever leagued together— having my own 
money in their hands to war against me with iti my 
weakness and embarrassment. I filed my bill in 
the case, and he his answer, diametrically opposite to 
each other, and yet each making solemn oath to tliQ 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



101 



truth of the facts set forth in his bill and answer — ■ 
whereas one or the other must be false in the sight 
of God and man, and, consequently, one or the other 
of us committed deliberate, wilful, and corrupt per- 
jury, and, according to the laws of the land, was a 
fit candidate for the penitentiary. So here v/as 
character, as well as money, at stake. But, after 
contending three years, the suit was at length decided 
by the Court of Errors, at Annapolis, in my favour. 

JSTow, reader, I have said that either the author 
or his antagonist sv/ore false, and that wilfully and 
corruptly. You will never know which it was — • 
you need not know which it was — until that great 
day, when all things shall be revealed, and passed 
upon by the Judge of all the earth, who will surely 
judge right. Earthly tribunals may, indeed, be 
properly enough styled courts of error, for they often 
give erroneous judgments, and the innocent suffer. 
But it is a matter of joy to my heart, that we are \ 
not to be judged at the last by the feeble and foggy 
understanding of an earthly jndge, and that all Mm 
witnesses will be silent there. Men may go through 
the v>wld "unwhipped of justice," but, behold, at 
the last all shall have their reward. All the other 
troubles and anguish of my whole life, from my 
cradle to the moment of writing this narrative, 
(and I think I have had my share,) taken together, 
would be but as the dust in the balance compared 
with v/hat I endured in this sad affair — of all the 
ether wounds ever inihetcd upon me, there was none 



102 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



SO sore as this. Like Da\ad, I T\'as wounded in the 
house of my friends. Had an enemy done this, I 
could have borne it — ^but it was one that had eaten 
of my bread ; it was one — but then the ties of con- 
sanguinity are frailer than the spider's web to ouq 
who can violate the sacred obligations of hosj)itality 
without remorse — in whose unmanly bosom every 
sentiment of gratitude is extinct. 

This was a contest of three years' dm'ation. 
During this time the canal money, which was the 
kind of money attached, was depreciated down to 
seventeen cents on a dollar. This I consigned for the 
benefit of my creditors, a fraction of the- §18,000 
rotten debts which I gave to pay |8,2o0 that I 
owed. When he came on to the job he v/as not 
worth one hundi-cd dollars, but is now, I presume, 
worth four thousand, while I am as I am. Never- 
theless I am happy and content. I envy him not, 
nor would I injure him ; I pray that he may repent, 
if he has not repented of the great wrong, and that 
God may forgive him, — I have, from my heart. 
Gladly would I have passed over this incident in 
silence, on account of associations and pecuhar 
circumstances, but I have undertaken to write a 
histoiy of my hfe, and I cannot pass over an event 
so important, which had so great an influence upon 
my feelings and fortune, without gi^^ng it a place 
in as few words as possible. And this is the last 
contract of this nature that I shall speak of but one, 
and that I shall defer to the latter part of this wc.jk, 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



103 



m ordor to introduce in tlieir proper place my 
spidtual* life and temporal blindness. 

And now, mj dear reader, before resuming tbe 
direct thread of my narrative, let us take a retrospect 
of the ground over which we have travelled. We 
see that from the time I entered upon the full tide 
of my business life, fate seemed to prescribe the 
path for me to pursue, with the settled determina- 
tion that I should not obtain the great object of my 
panting ambition — wealth_ and independence ; for 
we have seen that none of my important contracts 
have ended well, although no mortal eye could have 
perceived the end from the beginning, and although 
no material fault of mine seemed to characterize the 
execution of them — Bad Luck seemed to play a 
conspicuous part in them ail. I think you cannot 
say but that I have tried liard enough, and ways 
enough to have obtained a fortune, if it had been 
for me, — that is, if superabundance of this workVs 
o-oods may be reo-arded a fortune. Almost an^- 
man may look bnck over his past life and see r^any 
mistakes th5.t he has made, but that he was too 
short-sighted to perceive before he committed them.. 
The truth is, we know not, the wisest of us, what 
a day m.ay bring forth. My first contract ended in 
a blaze from a dormant spark in a coal brand that 
lay hid from human observation. Llany of my 
other enterprises were frustrated by my frequent 
loss of eye-sight, and my consenuent heavy ex- 
penses- — a most grievous misfortune, it seemed at 



104 TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



tlie time. The piilling down of my lock was ^ direfal 
blow to my prosperity, which could not have been 
anticipated. But the principal cause of my failures 
and calamities in business, was the rotten currency 
j)roduced indirectly by the Bank of the United States. 
No one could have anticipated that she, with her 
boasted capital of thirty -five millions, could, have 
failed to redeem her pledges ; for, while she was con- 
sidered to be corrupt, both friends and foes regarded 
her solvent. Hov/ little did I dream of losing, in the 
manner I did, such a vast amount on the Chesa- 
peake and Ohio Canal. All these things were un- 
seen and unexpected. But then we must not for- 
get the uncertainty of all human calculations ; and 
so it was, and so let it be. I sincerely hope that 
my aspiihig young readers vrill have discovered 
liow dangerous it is to attempt to climb ambition's 
ladder, the rounds of which are many of them, frailer 
than a spider's web, and will precipitate the aspirant 
lieadlong to the earth, in a moment when success 
seems most certain. . Ambition for earthly wealth, 
power or renown, is beneath man's true dignity. 

*' And cliase we still the phantom throiigli the fxre, 

Ox-r bo.a-, and brake, and i)recipice, till death? 

Aiid toil we still for sublunary pay? 

jjcfy the dau:;-crs of the field and flood, 

Ov, spider-like, spin out our preeious all, 

Our more than vitals spin (if no regard 

To great futurity) in curious webs 

Of subtle thought and exquisite design, 

(Fine network of the brain !) to catch a fly ! 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



105 



The momentary buzz of vain renov^ n ! 
A name ! a mortal immortality ! 

Or (meaner still) instead of grasping air, 
For sordid lucre plunge -,ve in tlie mirs I 
Drudge, sweat, tlirougli every shame, for every gain, 
For vile contaminating trash — throw up 
Our hope in herwen, our "dignity Viith man, 
And deify the dirt matured to gold ? 
Ambition, Avarice, the two demons these 
Which goad through every slough our human herd, 
Hard travelled from the cradle to the grave. 
How low the v,-r etches stoop ! how steep they climb! 
These demons burn mankind — and once possess 
The young man's bosom, they turn out the sides." 

Before closing this cliapter, I have a single im- 
portant piece of business to speak of, which I was 
not permitted to. introduce in its proper place, on 
account of a press of much grosser operations which 
demanded our attention. It may have been sup- 
posed, from- the lugubrious aspect of my business 
undertahings, that all my contracts were doomed 
to be disastrous ; and it may have seemed that rail- 
roads, and canals, and lumbering, and building 
houses and mills engrossed my whole attention, 
and left no room for gentler mattors. But not so, 
my friends. That rich Cumberland Valley, which 
I have told you contained those wide-spreading 
and luxuriant farms, studded with magnificent brick 
• and stone dwellings and barns, contained also, I did 
not tell you how many or how lovely young ladies, 
that were enough to move the heart of any man, 
and especially of a "lady's man," (as I have been 
described,)^ to tenderness, and to compete with rail 



106 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



roads and canals for a stare of his attention. 
You have already seen, in the earlier part of my 
history, that I was not in the least tinctured with a 
monkish indiiFerence to those gentle creatures whom 
Byron would call "the.pre^^s porcelain of human 
clay." ■ E'ay, truly I coulct 'say, with Hudibras, 
when railroads and canals, and steam saw-mills, 
and lumbering, were making me as busy as a 
general at the head of his a-rmy, and even v>dien 
fortune was lowering upon me her bitterest frowns : 

"Quotli lie, ' To bid me not to love, 
Is to forbid my pulse to move, 
My beard to grow, my ears to stick up, 
Or when I'm in a fit to hiccup.' " . 

It was in the midst of my engagements on the 
Franklin Railroad, in 1837, that I became acquaint- 
ed with Miss Susan C. Brown, of one of the most 
ancient famihes of Franklin County, Pa. Her 
father was then living on the farm of his nativity, 
located in this lovely Cumborland Valley, v/liich had 
been taken up in a state of nature by his grand- 
father, a hundred and fourteen years before, and it 
continued in the family down to the time of her 
father's death, which occurred about three years 
ago. Is early tvf enty years had nov/ passed, since my 
first adventure in the courting line, in the enjoy- 
ment of what is called " single blessedness." I had 
often heard it said that matches vrere ]uade in 
lieaven; but from many domestic e7vhibitions I had 
witnessed in the course of my life, I had concluded 



LIFE OF G: W. henry. 



107 



that many matches were made m that other place. 
The fact is, matrimony is much hke Jeremiah's figs, 
— it is either passing sweet, or too sour to be endur- 
ed. But, nevertheless, I soon found my heart right 
seriously involved with the daughter of Mr. Brown, 
and fully resolved to fclfewear a life of cehbacy, for 
she seemed the one by Heaven designed to make 
me happy. The preliminaries and negotiation of 
contract (which it is needless to say more of than 
that they were done up in the most business-like 
manner, accompanied with all the palpitation of 
heart and refusal of the tongue to perform its office, 
wliich usually characterize this sorjt, of negotiations, 
where true sentiment is involved,) occupied a space 
of time of about six months, when at length the 
treaty of alhance was signed, sealed and delivered, 
and duly ratified on the morning of the 5th of June, 
1838, in Mr. Brown's large stone mansion, in the 
presence of a large number of friends. We imme- 
diately came to the north to visit my friends, and 
soon returned to the south, where we continued till 
about a year and a half since, which will hereafter 
be spoken of. Though my other engagements 
were most of them disastrous in the end, this, I 
thank God, has been fortunate. Fortune may have 
frowned upon my worldly prospects, but Heaven 
blessed me with a wife. Surely, 

" Man's fate and favours are a theme in Sieaven.'* 

Here I have a little bank of affection and love, tha,t 



ICS TRIALS AND TlilUMPHS IN THE 

lias never ceased to discount in the hour of affliction 
and woe. Indeed, in the time of the darkest trials, 
there are no panics and suspending of specie-pay- 
ments, but it is then that my drafts, if possible, are 
most readily and liberally honoured. Such a cor- 
poration as this I am bound to support while hfe 
shall last. Yv'oman ! thy affections are exhaustless ! 
the chain of thy love adversity but renders stronger 
— death itself cannot sever it! Thou art a minis- 
tering angel, in mercy sent to cheer our pathway 
through the gloom of life. 

Here ended my courtsh'^ps and fhrtations with 
the ladies, and here let us end this chapter. 



CHAPTER VIIL 

In introducing my spiritual life and experience, it 
becomes necessary to speak of one more and the 
last contract I had on the public Vvorks. Tiiis end-' 
ed in my temporal blindness, and the beginning of 
some of the special prondences of God which 
brought me from natiu'e's darlcness to his most 
marvellous light. Gladly would I have placed all 
the affairs of my contracts, and temporal transac- 
tions, in the pre\dous part of this work ; but as it is 
so blended with m.y spiniual life, I am obliged to 
make use of this contract as a hnk uniting my 
temporal and spiritual experience. Glad shall I be 



LIFE OF G. W. HEICRT. 



109 



when my mind is relieved from gathering up the 
incidents and accidents that happened to me on 
pubHc works, and when it may dwell uninterrupt- 
edly on serious subjects. And may the Comforter, 
which is the Holy Ghost, teach me in all things, and 
bring all things to my remembrance whatsoever he 
hath spoken unto me. (John xiv, 26.) 

I was just now drifted ashore again on a mere 
floating-plank, ha\dng lost, by the FranMin Railroad 
and the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, between five 
and six thousand dollars. Here, then, being ofTered 
in market, by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad 
Company for contract, one- hundred miles of road, 
or six million feet of timber, to be delivered on the 
northern hmits of Virginia, I at once contracted 
with them to furnish forty miles of said road, com- 
mencing at the United States Arseual and running 
westward. This amounted to about two millions 
and a half feet. Soon after I also contracted with 
the same company to furnish two hundred thousand 
tree nails, or wooden pins, one foot long and eight 
square. I agTced to take scrip, issued on a loan 
from the city of Baltimore^ which was then the cir- 
culating medium of that country. It was a rare 
thing in those days to see a bank note, and witli 
much difficulty the citizens procui'cd specie sinli- 
cient to pay their postage, which was, howevoi-, 
ri gidly demanded by the Postmaster-General. I h ad 
also agreed to do this great work in the short space 
of eight months. The reader will here peiceivo 



110 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

tliat amongst all my iir : : ons, and the manj 
-wrecks I endured, I m:v raj character as ai) 

enterprising contractor lionest man. Tht 

reader will also paidon . " o'^^O' out this out 

compliment, inasmuch as I 1 maiivlna'c 

things against myself — for I ^viil a-sure him tha 
every scrub cannot procure a cont:\t:t ot such mag 
nitude, and especially Tvithout mutii co^ural. 

It is an old saying, thot a niAu't 
Lis shadoT>-, T^-ill al^-f'; ' lUto-rut w:,;;:, 
often in advance, pt t":-' iiitn / i 

there is anything mean \ 
I have often found a gKvtivr .share oi 
Avith the public than I wa-s entitled to: : 
now a v.-.>yjder to me lic-vr I should be abU to set si 
nuicb v^:^rh into immtbiet^:' operation ^^'iih meau 
s-:' b;iiir-'.h But 1 (Oit^ti^'l into this, as Iieretufort 
in the full belief that there vras a fortune of mone^^ 
at the eu'l ' ^ ^'^b, Tvhich, according tc> C':nitract 
wotild be 10 _ 111 a few months. Accordingly, ] 
set many mills in operation, within the three ditfer- 
ent States, for tlie purpose of sawing timber. ] 
tlien proceeded to Morgan County, Virginia, r 
motmtainous and almost solitary region, bought i 
large quantity of well- timbered land, and proceedec 
to build a steam saw-mill on it. There was not : 
school-house, or a place of public worship withir 
ten miles of it, except one church in Maryland, and 
o^^]y here and there could be seen a miserable log 
cabin. But, solitary as it was, in the short space ol 



LIFE OF G. Vr. HEXRY. 



Ill 



^veeks I had one of the most splendid steam saw- 
'■mills I ever saw, with three sets of saws in active 
j operation, and far exceeding the steam mills I built 
!in Maryland. In addition to this, I had put up a 
}dwelling-house, shanties, stables, etc.; and where, 
:biit a few days before, was the sohtary retreat of the 
deer and other wild anunals, now was heard, both 
i night and day, the puffing of a steam-engine, and 
the teeth of the gi-eedy saws, devouring and dincl- 
mg the stately old oak that for centuries had been 
unmolested. Although this appeared as a magic 
^ scene, sprung up in a day, I will assure my reader 
^that it was not brought about without untiring in- 
dustry, and not without many difficulties, which I 
iaeed not here relate. 

It was now late one Saturday evening, in the 
month of August, 1841, that my mill had been 
faithfully tried during the day, and had given great 
satisfaction to aU that witnessed its operation. 

Xow the birds had all gone to their rest, 

The deer and the oivl and the bear, 
And the men, with repose to be blest, 

Did all to their shanty repair. 

But my heart was filled with delight as I conversed 

?/Tth my principal machinist. General Crosbv, of 
,N"ew-Yorh, who expected to leave the ^J'dondav after 

br home, having finished his work. I think I ad- 
j-lressed him m nearly these words : ' Now, genera], 
' L have this mill in the most success^J operation, my 

imily are safely housed, and everything is going on 



ii2 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



just to suit me." Vessels were coming in from 
Port Deposit, landing timber at D, C, preparatory 
for tlie reception by the canal boats to carry it to its 
destination. All other mills, and everything around 
me seemed ready, like the ships of Solomon, to 
bring treasure into my pocket. And truly it was 
no vain picture. Though, in taking a retrospect of 
the past, many shipwrecks and disappointed hopes 
were brought to my mind, yet all seemed now 
prosperous. But I could not see the invisible hand 
of Providence, that was then already attaching 
wings to my glowing prospects. To all human ap- 
pearance an independent fortune was almost within 
my grasp. Four months, at most, would bring me 
into the possession of it. 

" On each condition disappointments wait, 
Enter tlie hut and force the guarded gate." 

But before we retired to rest, it Avas resolved that on 
the morrow we should take a ride, not to the house 
of worship, but to tlie fashionable scene of banquet- 
ing and revelry at Berkley Mineral Springs. These 
springs, the Saratoga of Virginia, were at the dis- 
tance of about eleven miles. The holy Sabbath 
morning came, and all prepar^itions were made to 
cut as respectable a swell as possible. While break- 
fast was getting ready, I washed off my carriage 
and gave directions to have a pair of well-mated 
horses harnessed in order for the occasion. 

Perhaps, in this part of my journal, it would bo 
well to acquaint the reader with some of my moi-al 



a.IFE OF a. W. HEKRY. 



lis 



jl and religious notions, that had followed me through 
' Jfe, while doing the work of a Gentile. I think I 
must have been about thirteen years old w^hen my 
jl mother was converted and united with the Metho- 
i; dist Episcopal Church. Soon after, several of my 
kinsmen and neighbours were happily converted to 
! God, and united with the same Church. There was 
also a reformation, or an excitement, among the 
,^ little' boys and girls, and I was in the number. 
|| Many of us were serious, and instead of playing at 
[' noon at school, we would retire to the forest or to a 
[ barn and hold a prayer-meeting. At meetings, I 
would weep and be melted into tenderness. I was 
very particular every night and morning, as I went 
to fodder the cattle, to kneel dov/n on the hay-mow 
and pray. I pursued this course about two months. 
About this time some of my cousins of my age 
came from a distance to see us. Accordingly there 
was a party made by Mrs. James Campbell, of 
Litchfield, for the little boys and girls. It was to be 
at her house on a certain evening. I was among the . 
number that met there, and was so delighted with 
the society that I neglected to kneel that night in 
prayer. The next morning I had still less disposi- 
tion to bend the knee ; and from that time I do not 
think I offered up a single prayer to God until I 
was forty years old, except in case of a thunder- 
storm. But at such times, no sooner had the thun- 
der ceased than prayer was laid aside, and all serious 
thoughts and promises vanished with the clouds. I 



114 



TRIALS AKD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



do not think that I had any rehgion or any change 
of heart at that time, but I was serious and con- 
victed of sin. These impressions- were written upon 
niy heart while it was yet tender, but afterwards 
gradually wore off — measurably at least. In after 
years I frequently attended quarterly meetings and 
camp-meetings, where I witnessed mighty displays 
of the power of God. I saw many stout-hearted 
sinners brought prostrate to the earth. I had no 
doubt then, neither have I ever entertained any 
since, that it was the power of God manifested in 
them. I always believed in the reality of religion, 
and in the necessity of a change of heart from 
nature to grace. I had also a historical faith in the 
great scheme of human redemption and salvation 
through Jesus Christ. In short, I was a Methodist 
in theory, though very far from being one in prac- 
tice. I always pretended to regard the Sabbath, 
and seldom did any business on that holy day. 

I advocated Methodist doctrine when I had any- 
thing to saj about it. My knowledge of the 
Bible was very limited, as I but seldom read it. I 
had committed to memory a few disconnected pas- 
sages of Scripture, merely for purposes of argument, 
but could not tell where any of them were recorded. 
I was always pleased to see Christians walk up- 
rightly, and hated to see any one backslide. My 
principal reading was the politics of the day. When 
about sixteen years old, I heard Lorenzo Dow preach, 
at a camp-meetingj from Eccl. xi, 9 ; and the text 



LIFE OF G. HEXRY. 



115 



was stamped on my mind, never to be forgotten. 
It was on Sunday afternoon that Dow presented 
himself on the stand, and, after looking aronnd upon 
the congTegation, exclaimed with an audible voice, 
"There are about seven thousand persons within 
this camp circle, besides rag-tag and bob-tail that 
are on the outside." This eccentric remark made 
him the centre of all the eves on the cri'ound at 
once. • He then read a part of his text : " Eejoice, 
yomag man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer 
thee in the days of thy youtli. and walk in the ways 
of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes.*' He 
then proceeded to tell the young people to let their 
heart cheer them. If they preferred gambling, 
horse-racing, getting di'unk, to coming into the altar 
and worshipping God, they should go on. if this 
conduct cheered their heaits, and walk in the sight 
of their own eyes. "Certainly you have Scriptr.re 
to support you." And to the yoimg women he 
said, "If your heart is cheered more in the l-all- 
room than in the prayer-meeting, go on — let it 
cheer you. Or, if you love the vanities of the AVorM 
more than religion, my text tells you to walk in the 
sight of your own eyes." So he proceeded, till all 
eyes and ears were fixed upon him. I was de- 
hghted with him, as well as all the wicked that had 
gathered around. " Ah !" said I, " this is the kind 
of preaching to suit me ; an 1 r ' :::t of all is, tliat 
he has.^ot Scripttueto prov- ._. :-re is no harm 
i^r the youth to indulge in all these things.'' TThiie 



116 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



the old professors looked strange at him, all tlie 
's\icked were delighted. 

Here lie stopped short, took up a chah' that vv'as 
on the stand, dashed it down two or three times on 
the board before him, and then set it in its place 
again. Candlesticks, preachers' hats, (tc, were 
knocked off on the ground or floor. Then he called 
out, dt the top of his voice, tvro or three times, 
" Hark !" Then there was a breathless silence in 
the audience, to hear what was coming. " IS'ow," 
says he, " comes the remainder of mj text : ' But 
know thou that for all these things God will brirjg 
thee into judgment.' " I had little thought that he 
■ was raising me up, through the first part of his dis- 
course, in order to give me the greater fall. But 
for all these follies, he poured out the judgments of 
God upon the wicked unsparing]}', until some cried 
out, " What shall I do to be saved I, with some 
others, left the gi'ound, thinking more favourably of 
the first part of his discourse than the latter. How- 
ever, I had not quite as good an opinion of my own 
heart and conduct as I had when I went there. 
Often afterward, in the midst of revelry, these words 
were thundered home to my conscience—" Remem- 
ber that for all these thino-s God will brino- thee into 
judgment." And I often had times appointed in 
my own mind when I would set out to serve the 
Loi'd ; but there was always a year's work, at least, 
to do previous to the commencement. But at all 
events, I meant to begin as soon as I got married 



IIFE OP G. -W. HENRT. H*^ 

and settled; and after I got married, my ^vife and 
I a^eed that the next year, at camp-meetmg 
would set out together. As that period arrived, ^-e 
found so manv difficulties in the way, that ye 
readily resolved to put it otY until the next. ! the 
deceitfulness of sin ! 

Reader, I have now b-ought to your notice some 
of the moral features of my life. I have also 
travelled with you through the folhes of my youth, as 
well as through many of my business transactions in 
riper Tears. I have led you along, down to that holy 
Sabbath day which I was preparing to desecrate. 
That day will be remembered by me m eternity. 
It was a day like that on which Saul of Tarsus 
^vas arrested,' and turned from his career of wicked- 
ness, while on the road to Damascus. But it would 
seem that disappointments and misfortunes only 
served to strengthen me, and nerve my arm for 
more business and a greater fortune. I w;is like the 
• lion that crouches in order to take a more desperate 
leap for his prev. The reader wiU bring back Ins 
thoughts to the Saturday night when I was exnltmg 
at the success of my business, contemplating th<- 
great fortune of which I was almost in reach, ana 
^esolvincr to go with my fiiend and family to Berkley 
Springs! There we expected to join with the giddy 
and the gay, planters and their sons and daughters, 
for the purpose of drinking juleps, banqueting, prom- 
enading, &c. Accordingly, about nine o'clock on 
Sunday morning the horses were harnessed, and all 



il8 TRIALS AND TRItlMiPfiS IN THE 

was ready. My family consisted of my wife and 
two cMldren. My eldest, Frances Clarissa, was 
about two years and three months old, a beautiful 
and interesting child. She seemed to me one of 
the handsomest children I ever saw. I suppose, 
however, that a great many parents would honestly 
contend for the same prize. My youngest child 
w^as four months old. 

All being ready, we mounted the carriage, and 
were rapidly on our way to the Springs. We. had 
not, however, proceeded more than two miles, be- 
fore I was' suddenly taken sick, with a severe pain 
in my head, attended with cold chills, so that I was 
obliged to turn about and return home. This was 
the very spot, where the Lord in his goodness and 
mercy arrested me in my mad career, and power- 
fully urged me, by his Spirit, to turn and seek his 
face and favour. Bless his holy name forever ! But 
I was like the man that Bunyan describes with the 
muck-rake. While the interpreter was taking one 
of the pilgrims through the king's palace and gar- 
dens, he saw a man there having a muck-rake in' 
his hand, while a celestial crown was held over his 
head by an invisible hand — but he was so intent or 
engaged in raking together a few straws and sticks 
that he could not look up, or spare a hand to re- 
ceive it. The pilgrim inquired of him, what that 
picture represented ? The interpreter told him that 
that represented a man of this world. So intent 
was he upon the vanities that perish with their 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



119 



using, that he had not even a thought or a desire 
after celestial things. "0," says the pilgrim, "de- 
liver me from the muck-rake." " Amen," replied 
the interpreter. That prarer has got rusty, for it 
seems not to have been used much for many years. 
But God in wisdom, and in his own way, turned 
my eyes and thoughts from earth to heaven. After 
returning home, I lay down upon a bed in much 
distress. The family all partook of their supper, 
and my little daughter among the rest. I think 
I never saw her more playtlii and iHteresting than 
she was that day. After supper, she sat down in 
her little chair and rechned her head a little. Her 
mother, supposing ' her asleep, went and raised up 
her head, and, to our astonishment, death had 
already laid hold on her with an unyielding grasp. 
Her sparkling black eyes had already become set in 
their sockets, presenting a vacant glare. E\-cry 
eflbrt in our power was made to bring her relief, 
but she struggled a few moments with the grim 
monster, and the spirit of my little Fanny was re- 
leased from its cumbrous clay. The bird had flown 
rom its cage to paradise, to return no more until 
^le morning of the resurrection. She died in the 
lap of a neiglibouring old woman, who came in 
during that solemn hour. I have often chided 
parents, and more especially fatliers, for displaying 
so much weakness at the death nnd burial of a 
young child; but all the go.;d reasons I liad ar- 
tiguixi for them to cast away their soj-rovf, seemed 



120 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



to have but little influence on my mind. I receivea 
but little balm from sucli considerations. As soon 
as tlie vital spark bad fled, I fell upon my knees, 

1) ending over ber lifeless corpse, praying loudly to 
God that be would give me back my cbikl, wbicL 
seemed so rudely and suddenly snatcbed from tbe 
arms and embraces of ber parents. I bad not grace 
at tbis time to lay my Isaac or Benjamin, or even 
my little Fanny,' on tbe altar tbat sanctifietb tbe gift. 
I could not say, witb |)atient Job, " Tbe Lord gave, 
and tbe Lord batb taken away ; blessed be tbe name 
of tbe Lord." no ! I was foolishly weak ; but 
reason, resuming her seat, informed me tbat I must 
prepare ber for tbe grave. So she whom, but a 
little while before, fancy had j^ictured out a beauti- 
ful young lady of eighteen, tbe pi*ide and joy cf 
ber parents, was now laid on ber coobng board, 
;oon to become food for worms. There was a very 
jo'ood old preacher by the name of Gardner, who 
iiad held meeting about a mile from there that 
dav : he was eno-ao-ed to i^i'eacli the funeral sermon 
tbe next day. All business was suspended, and tbe 

2) reacher came and delivered bis discourse. The 
procession vras formed by my workmen and neigh- 
bours, and she was committed to the grave on a 
lonely bill, a short distance from the mill. O bow 
many times, when reason would give ber up, affec- 
tion would claim ber right, and bring ber back 
again ! But we returned home with sorrowful 
hearts, like Mary weeping at the sepulchre. 



LIFE OF G. vr. he:-; nr. 



121 



The wheels of our business were set in motion 
ao^ain, althouo-h the whole country seemed as lone- 
some to me as a grave-yard. Christ said, What 
I do thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt know 
hereafter." John xiii, V. This was said to saints^ 
but, alas ! I was not a saint. I knew nothing of the 
comforting influence of the Holy Spirit, to sustain 
me in the hour of affliction. I think the first night 
after the funeral, before I retired to bed, I bent the 
knee, and uttered something like promises that I 
would then begin to lead a nev/ life and seek relig- 
ion. But I fear my heart did not desire to do 
what I promised v/ith my hps. My prayer Avas like 
the ships of Jehoshaphat, that never reached the 
mines, being scattered in their passage ; for while I 
was praying, my engine was pufiing, my mills rat- 
thng, and, hke the man Vv'ith a muck-rake, I was 
stih desiring to gather up more stravrs — and my old 
coimsellor was at my elbow, vs-hispering in mv ear, 
that above all times in my life, this vras the most 
inauspicious period to set out to serve the Lord. lie 
then brought to my mind, that six thousand dollars 
worth of business must be accompli sliedt in a month, 
or at least two hundred dollars worth a day, in 
order to complete my contract in time. The grand 
adversary thus yery plausibly showing me that I 
would find no time to attend to the ordinances of 
God, I finally agreed with him, that it was best to 
put it olT until the job was completed. So I got up 
from my knees, moui'ning about the loss of my 



122 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



child, and contemplating tlie gi'eat fortune I was 
soon to realize. If the devil had suggested to me 
the idea of never trying to get religion, I should not 
have hstened to him a moment; but he under- 
stands his subjects better than they do themselves, 
aud can always adapt himself to suit their case. 

The next day my business called me to the ^^1- 
lage of Martinsburg, a distance of almost seventeen 
miles, the county seat of Berkley. The shock I re- 
ceived from the sudden death of my child seemed 
to have banished the pain and sickness with vrhich 
I was attacked w^hile on my way to the Springs on 
■ Sunday morning ; but now I was seized v^ith great 
pain in my right leg, so that I could not ride on 
horseback. My young brother-in-law, therefore," 
took me down in a carriage. After hobbling about 
and finishing mj business, we started for home 
about sunset. But I was suddenly taken with such 
exquisite pain, that I was obliged to turn about be- 
fore I got out of the village, and return back to the 
hotel. There I remained for about one month, — 
beiug afiiicted with exquisite pain in my leg, at- 
tejided with chills and fever, until I was reduced to 
a mere skeleton, and my life by some despaired of. 
There is one singular providence that I would not 
pass over without making some remarks ; Avhether it 
be a mere accident or a special providence a here- 
after may determine. You recollect I told you that 
on the night of the death of my child, I got upon 
my knees to pray before I retired to bed ; but it 



LIFE OF G. W, HENRY. 



123 



turned out, that instead of making a covenant with 
God to seek- his face then, I made an agreement with 
Satan to wait until after the contract was finished ; 
and as I was about to rise from my knees, I hit 
the edge of my knee-pan upon the head of a nail 
that was raised up in the floor, which, although 
not worth noticing at the moment, was the prin- 
cipal cause of my long sickness in Martinsburg, by 
which I came very near losing my leg, if not my hfe. 
And I can now look back and see the force of that 
passage of Scripture, and can apply it in truth, to my 
case, from that day till now : " As r.n eagle stirreth 
up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth 
abroad her Tvdngs, takctli them, beareth them on 
her wings : so the Lord alone did lead him, and 
there was no strange God with him." Deut. xxxii, 
11, 12. It is said by naturahsts that the eagle builds 
her nest on the highest and most secluded cliff. 
She builds the foundation of her nest with sharp 
thorns, lining it with a very soft material ; and when 
the young are sufficiently feathered, in the opinion 
of the mother, to sail out from their nest, but they, 
not having confidence in their owti wing, continue 
lazily in their soft nest, then, in the language of Scrip- 
ture, she stirreth up her nest, by taking all the soft 
fining from under her tender young and scattering 
it to the winds, and thus leaving them their choice 
to fly or die on a bed of thorns. The decision is 
soon made to venture out, while the parent eagle 
fluttereth over them, while she spreads her broad 



124 



tkijlls and triumphs in the 



wrings. ?een2:2g\y standing: on the thin air, watching 
vritli the ^ :r:.:T=: ::rr ' : jvement of 

her yoni:^ ; :.rA ; _ . ._^eif wings h 

ahii: ;t s y : pair and hope, 

.with ' ^' c::v:^ hr::-:.rh 

^lien thev h:;-.- :h"5 ye::"-! ^: " -:,-;h, 

anoth-r :r:r^l r^:. : 

they hcoezii v-:--; -y:- :l -icn.-. ^ 

So i: ^'as v;-::h - : Lv.:::'.^e author. A fanciful 
imag::::;::::: h:o;: y::r.;ie.l to roe the soft hed of 
anttirote cfoe. ood I ^va^ determined to have it 
l:e:::e I i-: z:> serve the Lord, But glory to his 

my idol child, to attract nty :otr:::::n and n:v adec- 
tions upwards. The parent. v-h:=e c:dy chiia has 
crossed the hiiny deep, vrid c::ei: tninh cd the 
departed cor. and lono- to he vriih it. So n:y 
thoughts vrere drav-n :.dtr iny":7i:""aa idd? ^irl. 
I was now laid also upon that lea ed sichness. and 
began to feel the thoms pricking me. My ^i:e vras 
immediately sent for, ami she, with td : day a i ve 
and affection, endeavoured to smoc^^ ay 
pillow. But it was in vv; ; rav ' .y. 
Not only did the sd: ^ ■ : - :e, 
but also pain of h-dy. ai:d tL.e t: a _ _ iiy 
business afflict and perplex me. IS'n d a y h.ar- 
ished hopes of a great fortune :^ 
tliemselves wmgs. and, as in the .a-.w^t^s o: Job, 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



125 



one servant quickly followed another, bringing news 
of some sad misfortune and disappointment. It 
seemed the very elements had turned against me ; 
for the stream that supplied my engine with water 
was no V/ nearly dry. This was a circumstance un- 
known before by the oldest citizens. A constant 
stream of only the size of a quarter of an inch 
would have supplied it night and day. During the 
month that I lay sick at Martinsburg, I made m.any 
promises to the Lord that I would set. out to servo 
him ; but the adversary of my soul was constantly 
engaged, in striving to prevent me — telling me, Isot 
now. The cares of business and pain of body 
all seemed to unite ao-ainst me to crowd out and 
choke every good desire. O ! my dear reader, let 
me here solemnly and emphatically warn you, 
and in the name of God beseech you, to set out this 
moment to seek the Lord, with full purpose of heart, 
. before the evil day draws near when you shall be 
' laid upon a bed of languishing! You will then 
have enough to grapple with, without drinking the 
wormwood and the gall. " Seek the Lord while he 
may be found," and your bed of death shall 

*' Be soft as downy pillows are, 
' While on his breast you lean your head, 

And breathe your life out sweetly there." 

Ha^dng partially recovered, so that I could hobble 
j across the room on a pair of crutches, I was carried 
back to the mill, vvhich I found motionless, and 
everything around wore a gloomy aspect. The ex- 



126 TRIALS Amy triumphs in the . 

eessive drouglit throughout the country had stopped* 
nearly all my water-mills. Something was neces- 
sary to be done, to bring up the rear in my busi- 
ness, and secure, if possible, the back money which 
was already earned, and in the hands of the com- 
pany, but v/hich was subject to forfeiture unless the 
job was completed. It was certain ruin to stop 
there, and it could be nothino; worse to endeavour 
to finish. My promises to God were as if written 
on the snow. I clenched the muck-rake to gather 
up some of the scattered strav/s. I resolved to go 
to Baltimore, although I looked more like a candi- 
date for the grave-yard than for any other business. 

However, I met the company, and they agreed to 
join with me in supplying the residue of timber, 
promising to pay me for all I would supply, be il 
more or less. That night I stayed in Baltimore, and 
put up at Beltshoover's large hotel, a place where I 
had usually stopped. I was shown by the servant 
to my lodging-room. There I spent a most solemn 
night; and though I v/as not in very great pain, 
yet i't seemed that none but death was to be my 
companion in the night. When I went to bed, I 
got the servant to fasten the bell of my room over 
my head, so that I could reach up my arm and ring 
it if I should have occasion, or rather the wire oj 
my bell that passod from my room, through vari*. 
ous walls of the house, into a lower room wheri 
the servant watched. Pulling that wire would ring 
a bell having the number of ray room, and so di- 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



127 



rect the servant to the right place. But, thank 
' God! I survived the dead, though I beheve I pray- 
jl ed in rather more earnest that night tthan I ever 
I had before ; but I fear I prayed more for the pre- 

servation of my hfe than for the pardon of my 
1 Bins. 

I now returned home again, being determined 
that even the elements should not prevail against 
me in stopping my mills. So I rigged a team and 
hauled about twenty hogsheads of- water daily, for 
' about six weeks. This, in addition to what I re- 
ceived by sinking a well, enabled me to keep my 
engine in motion, praying and expecting every day 
that the heavens would give us rain. Although, in 
1 this way, my water cost me five dollars a day, yet 
j it was wisdom to obtain it so, under our circuni- 
|; stances. So the company and myself, by bringing 
j a large quantity of timber from J^orth Carolina, and 
^ every other place where we could procure it, at almost 
any price, completed the contract early the next 
spring. I think it was in October that I set the 
r mill in operation, driving everything I could before 
j me. I had now regained m.y health, with the ex- 
i ception that my right leg was shrunk and vrithered, 
I from the upper joint of my thJgh down to my 
I' ankle. So I halted on m^y thigh, like Jacob, when 
I lie wrestled at the ford of Jabbok with the angeL 
L' Gen, xxxii. I was still listening to the advice of the 
I adversary of my soul, " Wait till a more convenient 
:son, to give your heart unto God;' ! how 
c 



128 



TRIALS AKD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



true it is, that tlie Lord is long-suffering, not willing 
that any sliould perish, but that all should come to 
repentance. 2 Pet. iii, 0. 

Christmas had now arrived, and I was able to • 
lay aside one of my crutclies and again to mount 
my horse. Having business with Colonel Colston, 
who had also been engaged in furnishing timber for 
the compan}", I went to see him. And perhaps it 
v>'ould not be uninteresting or out of place here, to . 
give my northern reader a little account of my visit, , 
and a short description of this distinguished family. 
The colonel was an heir of at least one hundred and 
fifty thousand dollars, and v>^as one of the Virginia 
" bloods," as he was termed. He vras a noble-lock- 
ing, free-hearted man, and, in short, he possessed \ 
every qualification of a gentleman. He had been '\ 
a member of Congress several years. He lived in " 
a large and ancient brick mansion, situated about a 
mile south of the Potomac river. Around this he 
owned about fifteen hundred acres of elegant lime- 
stone land, divided into several farms. The canal 
cx)mpany had throvvm a heavy dam across the river 
near him, where" he had erected, about five years pi-e- 
vious, a fiouring-mill and saw-mill. These, having 
cost about thirty-five thousand dollars, burned dov/n 
the first week, the fire also consuming a large am.ount 
of wheat with them. At the time of my visit, he 
had just completed another similar mill on the 
same gTOund. This being Christmas-day, and the 
birthdr.v of tlie colonel, they had been accustomed, 



LIFE OF G. SV. HE XP.Y. 



129 



for many years, to observe it as a family festival. I 
bad often visited liim before, and on that occasion 
he pressed me to dine with him, and remain all 
night. About tonr Qxlock the rich b)anqueting 
table was spread, covered with the luxuries of life 
and the dainties of the season. His family consist- 
ed of a wife and five children, a family tutor, a 
young lady, who was a relative, and an old mother 
of about eighty, a relic of the Washington family. 
She was an own sister to Chief Justice Marshall, 
and a near connexion of General Washington. 
After dinner, talking and mincing perhaps an hour 
and a half, bottles of very rich wine were produced, 
and a glass for each ; and while drinking, senti- 
ments or toasts were freelv exchano-ed, in which the 
old lady and the colonel participated. This was a 
respectable family, and could boast of noble ances 
tors. Before we arose from the table, the colonel 
related his experience for the last previous ten years, 
which was as follows : — 

He said that he was that day fifty-five years old. 
When he was forty-five he resolved to let go public 
offices and buiki the mill, as I have heretofore stated, 
get out of debt, and so arrange his proij^rty as to 
have no other care but to receive the revenue of 
the rents that it yielded him. The balance of his 
hfe, from fifty years old, he had resolved to dedicate 
to God, and enjoy the comfort of his family. ^'But 
alas!" said he, "how vain are all human calcula- 
tions! From the very period I had set to be re- 
9 



130 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



lieved fi'om tlie anxieties, cares, and troubles of this 
world, the reverse was my lot. For," continued he, 
"I have had more trouble and pecuniary embar- 
rassments- during the kbt five years, than all the 
rest of my life put together/' And I suppose it 
was true ; for the constable and the sheriff were 
daily at his elbows, teasing him for money. The 
burning of his mill, the fall of property, and the 
depreciation of currency, had so embarrassed his 
possessions, and left him as poor a man as the 
humble guest he v/as then entertaining. 

And here I learned a salutary lesson, viz., that it 
is not all gold that glitters, and that those are not 
ahvays the richest that live in the greatest houses 
or own the largest farms. O, how mistaken is the 
judgment of this, world concerning the things that 
make for our peace ! I can now truly say with the 
poet, " Give me Jesus — give me Jesus — and you 
may have all the v»^orld besides." The evening 
passed away pleasantly. 

The next day was the Sabbath, and the colonel 
being an Episcopalian, all bowed the knee around 
the family altar while he read a prayer, concluding 
^•nth the " Lord's prayer," in which all the family 
joined. His negro slaves, of both sexes, were all 
set free from Chris tmas till New- Year. This is a 
custom throughout Virginia and Maryland. It is 
their annual jubilee. Those who are not religiously 
inclined, generally , pass their time in frolicking, 
daiicing, getting married, &c. And so I left them, 



LIFE OF G. \r. HENRY. 



131 



in the full belief that the negroes enjoyed the 
PTeatest happiness, and the greatest slave on the 
plantation was the noble and generous-hearted 
colonel himself; that is, of the two great evils of 
slaveiy for the time being, the colonel was the most 
harassed. An honest man to be in debt without any 
thing to pay, is, as it has been said, like a cat being 
in hell without claws. I know hov/ to pity him. These 
were fetters, however, that his own ambitious hand 
had placed upon his own freedom ; but not so with the 
poor negroes ; they were doomed to wear their chains 
perhaps until death should sign their release. It is 
a rare thino- that the slave finds so kind a master 
as Colonel G. Something like the family in which 
TJncle Tom and Aunt Chloe found a birthplace 
until the extravagance of Mr. Shelby, the sure fore- 
runner of poverty, turned Uncle Tom out of his 
paradise, and he was doomed to run the gauntlet 
of hell, with one or two exceptions, until death signed 
his release. This picture of slavery, in all its phases, 
has been so perfectly portrayed before the eye of 
the pubhc by Mrs. H. B. Stowe, that I v/ill not daub 
the painting with my unskilful brush, but my soul 
says Amen to her sentiment. So I soon found my- 
self with my family at Kinderhook mills. So much 
for that visit. 

I think about this time I was almost as f^r from 
God as I ever was. Haying regained my health, 
I was determined, in spite of everything, to make 
some money out of the job. When stern Justice 



132 



TRIALS AXD TRITMPHS IN THE 



said, ^' Cut liim down ; why cumberetli lie tLe 
ground? Has he not been called, from time to 
time, both by general and special providences, to 
turn and seek the Lord ? Has he not mocked God 
with vain promises? Has he not, for more than 
thirty years, trampled imder foot the prayers and 
tears of a pious mother, whose constant anxiety 
was that her only child might become a Christian? 
Has he not sinned against hQ;ht and knowl^rdge 
continually ? TVTiy not number him with all the 
nations that forget God T' — TThile this was the 
oiy of Justice, Mercy cried, *' 0, spare him a little 
longer!" Glory to God I It was b}; "' "'-sus 
had not left the m-r^y-scat — had no: _ . .^-ased 
pleading mv cause, showing his blcc.'::::; hands and 
side to the Father, p: raying that an:ih-:r c:::r: might 
be made for my saiva:i:n — that I am liC'vr the spared 
montnnent of his amazing mercy ! The Father, 
looking upon his Anointed, granted the petition, 
^and glory be to his holy name, "whose mercy 
endureth i*orever." 

And now the last blessed and effectual effort 
was, to drop a dark curtain before me and totally 
exclude me from the sight of all sublunary and 
transitoiy things. My sight began then, very 
gradually, to leave me, and that without the least 
paiD. The next Sabbath, being New- Year, I drove 
in my carriage to Hedgesville, a distance of about 
eleven miles, and heard the Rev. John A. Collins 
preach, at a quarterly meeting. He was tlie hist 



LIFE OF a. "W. HEJTRY. 



133 



man I ever saw in a pnljDit. My desires were some- 
ivhat awakened, under his preachings to seek the 
Lord ; and before I returned home, I purchased a 
large family Bible. I opened it, and by looking 
very close, was able to read one verse, and that, I 
think, was the last I ever read. I drove my horse 
within a mile of home, but my sight failed so fast, 
that my wife was unwilling to ride so any farther. 
But she not being acquainted with dridDg herself, 
we took the horses from the carriage and went home 
without it. This was the last time I ever attempted 
to drive. 

Soon after this, I had occasion to go to Baltimore. 
One of my workmen put a horse before my buggy 
to take me to Martinsburg, where I intended to 
take a stage. On the way, and about half the dis- 
tance, we we> , tinder the necessity of fording a large 
creek. As we arrived at the shore, the driver said 
he thought the creek had risen about two feet. I 
concluded that if it had not risen more than that, 
we should be able to ford it with safety. I could 
now see just well enough to discover the shape of 
I the horse between me and the sun. So we plunged 
j into the creek, but it had risen four or five feet in- 
I stead of two, and we ^soon found ourselves in eight 
or ten feet water, and that running wild as a torrent. 
The horse, being checked, was unable to swim, and 
I stranghng, turned a perfect somerset; and as he 
I came up with his head towards the buggy, he came 
- y near pulling us under. Wq were now all float- 



134 



TRIALS A^^) TRIUMPHS IX THE 



ing down tlie stream, and it was death to jump out, 
as no man could stand the torrent, so that all hopes 
of life seemed, for a tmie, to be cut off. O, how 
horror and despair rushed upon my guilty soul at 
that perilous and solemn moment! I cried aloud 
for mercv, and as a kind Providence had so ordered 
it, a man, on a very large horse, came to our rescue ; 
my horse, in the meantime, having come in contact 
with some obstruction in the river, nobly held all at 
anchor. 

The man on the large horse came in to our rehef, 
and set us safely on terra-f rma, while the horse 
was got loose from the biig'gy and swam ashore, 
leaving the buggy there. " Well," says the reader, 
*'did you not fall 'on your face and give thanks to 
that invisible Hand that snatched you from a watery 
p'rave, and as a brand from a burnino; hell With 
shame and confusion of face, I must tell you, that 
my proud heart would not suffer me to bow the 
knee, even under those solemn circumstances. Had 
no one been present but myself, I should probably 
have got down on my knees and expressed my 
deep-felt gi'atitude to my Dehverer. I owed my de- 
liverance to the mercy of God. But, like 2\'apoleon, 
unacquainted with retreat, I went up the creek 
about five miles, and crossed it on a bridge, 'and 
made my way to Baltimore. My principal business 
was to obtain relief for my eyes. I ^ited several 
eminent physicians, but obtained no relief, and but 
little encouragement from them. But hope still 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 135 

jj lingered in my heart, cheering me with the belief 

{l that I should eventually obtain my sight, and so I 

• returned home again. 

About this time the money of the company, issued 

I from the city loan, which I was bound to take in 

' payment for my timber, depreciated one-half in 
value. There was at this time, too, probably two 
millions of dollars of it iu circulation, so that it was 
difficult to pay a debt of one dollar with two. As 

' continental times had come again throughout the 

' country, my prospects for making money on that 
job received a fatal stab. My only hope now was, that 
the company would give me my retain percentage, 
which at that time was considerable. The man of 

' whom I bought the land, refusing to take the rail- 
road money, closed up his mortgage, and forced all 
to sheriff sale ; and as there was no one who had 
current money to buy, the mills, land and all, 
brought only one thousand dollar's. Here was a 
tremendous sacrifice. I now had nothing else to do 
but to pay off my men, gather up my family and 
goods, and return to Pennsylvania. I intended to 
spend the summer in search of a physician that 
would be able to restore to me my sight. 

' This was in the spring of 1842. I intended also 
to settle up my business in the three States as fast 
as possible. I had at this time probably unsettled 

I business with various corporations and individuals, 
to the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars, and 

I most of it in a perplexed and embarrassed situation. 

I! 



136 TRIALS ANID THIUMPHS IN TBOg 

The railroad company unmercifully refused to give 
me my retain percentage, imless compelled by a 
course of law. This they very well knew I was un- 
prepared to do. For an individual to contend in 
law with corporations, is like approaching a hornet's 
nest, and *is generally vain, however just the claim 
may he. And I here give it as my opinion, that 
in general, at least, they are a curse to the country ; 
that they are without clfaracter or responsibility. 
Taking this general \dew of my business, in connex- 
ion with my infirmity, I resolved to give to my 
creditors a schedule of all my debts and credits the 
world over, and let them make the best of them 
they could for themselves. My debts amounted to 
a little over eight thousand dollars, and the amount 
due me about eighteen thousand, leaving a balance 
in my favour, if all could be collected, of about "ten- 
thousand dollars. This is probably about the Avay 
I stand as to this world's affairs. The greater part 
of y/iiDt is due me, being in the hands of rotten 
corporations, I fear there will not be half enough 
collected, even to pay up my deLts. 

" How vain are all things here below, 

How false and yet ho^v fair ! 
Each pleasure hath its poison too, 

And every sweet a snare." 

Dear reader, have you any treasure m heaven? 
Do you feel daily an earnest of that blood-bought 
inheritance? Have you the. Spirit bearing witness 
with your spirit that you are adopted into the family 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



131 



of God ? Pause one moment, and ast yourself this 
solemn and important question. If the answer is in 
the negative. I care not how many acrew you call 
your own, or how many honours cf this world you 
enjoy, unless you " can read your title clear' to that 
heavenly inheritance, let me tell you that you are 
a poor man, bhnd and naked. 

By this time I was totally eclipsed, having coun- 
selled with some of the most eminent physicians, 
without any encouragement or prospect of the re- 
covery of my sight. 



CHAPTER IX. 

I THINK it was in the month of May that I spent a 
Sabbath in Martinsburg, and at the place where I 
attended meeting there w^as quite a revival of reli- 
gion among tlie Methodists and Lutherans. The 
text in the morning was, " Awake, thou sleeper." 
Every word seemed to be dire<ited to me, and 
awakened the sleeping energies of my soul. I re- 
turned to the hotel where before I had passed 
through . that month of severe illness, entered the 
same chamber, and there in my solitude made a 
solemn covenant with Almighty God that I would, 
from that moment, set out to seek his face and fa- 
vour ; and that if I died without mercy or pardon, 
de-ath should fnid me in the piusuit of it. I v^aa 



138 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



now in good earnest, and think that, for the first 
time in my life, I was fully resolved to get religion. 
I shall remember that vow in eternity. I felt as if 
it were almost presumptuous to seek the favour of 
that God whose mercies I had abused ever since I 
had reached the years of accountabihty. There was 
also to be a meetino^ in the evenino:, and an invita- 
tion was to be given for mourners to present them- 
selves at the altar of prayer. Now I had gained 
the victory over the devil on the start, and he knew 
well that my mind was irrevocably made up to seek 
the Lord, and I heard no more suggestions to pro- 
crastinate the day of repentance, neither would I 
listen to any. I ^vas now as fully bent, and in as 
good earnest to obtain a heavenly treasure, as I ever 
was before after earthly treasures. He therefoi'o 
took a new device, which was, as I discovered after 
I was converted, to set me to earning heaven by my 
prayers and tears. He endeavoured to make me 
believe that I knew all about the plan of salvation, 
and that better than one-half the preachers could 
tell me, and that I had talent sufficient to make a 
first-rate prayer for a nevv beginner. When even- 
ing came, I went to the meeting, with the plan 
already made up in my mind how to proceed. I 
intended to go to work in great earnest, expecting, 
when I had prayed to a certain extent, to come out 
shouting and happy. Accordingly, v/hen the 
preaching was over and mourners were invited for- 
ward, I was the first to lead the way, and several 



LIFE OV G. VT. HEXKY. 



139 



others followed. I got down on my knees and be- 
gan to pray with all my might. I felt that I v»'a3 
on dangerous ground. The avenger of blood seemed 
at my heels. I wept, mourned, and begged for life, 
eternal life. The minister came and spoke to me, 
but I did not listen to what he said, supposing I 
knew quite as much about the v/ay of salvation a?i 
he did. 

The meeting closed about ten o'clock, and an ap- 
pointment was given out for a prayer-meeting at the 
same place, about sunrise the next morning. I re- 
turned home to my room, and prayed and wrestled 
much, durino' the nio-ht. The next mornino-, like 
weeping Mary, I was among the first at the chui-ch. 
As meeting opened, I began to pray audibly and 
fervently, but returned to the hotel, feeling the load 
of my sins growing heavier. 

llj dear reader, whoever you are, let us p?Ji5G 
^ere a moment, and consider the work you are 
reading. It is not a sermon ; not a production 
clothed in the habiliments of literature, but it is the 
history and experience of a poor sinner, brought by 
the mercy of God to sbe his danger and seek salva- 
tion. In the preface of this work, I exhorted you 
to eschew the evil and embrace the good, if per- 
chance you should find any in such a life of errors. 
And in setting forth to my various readers both 
( wisdom and folly, I am aware that I subject myself 
to the sneers and ridicule of the proud and scornful 
: wisdomite of this world. And to the cold, dead 



140 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS 12? THE 



Pharisee and formalist, that part which has most of • 
Christ in it will doubtless be a stumbhng-blocb, and 
■will, perhaps, appear weakness and folly. " When 
I was a child, I spake as a child, I thought as a 
child : but when I became a man, I put away 
childish things." 1 Cor. xiii, 11. . I have set forth 
the follies and vanities of my youth, as well as the 
mistakes of my riper years ; and so, in my Christian 
expeiience, you will find I have made many crooked 
paths, like a lone w^anderer in a dark night, seeking 
for a lost home. When the sun has risen and dis- 
pelled the darkness of the night, he can then look 
back and see what a zig-zag course he has pursued, 
and that, perhaps, near some precipice or deep 
cavern, where he might have been dashed to pieces, 
or found a watery grave. How will such a one re- 
joice, when he considers the hairbreadth escapes he 
has made ! How will he rejoice when he finds 
himself resting safely in the bosom of those he loves. 
Truly says the wise man, " The light is sweet, and 
a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun." 
If a transition from a state of darkness to a state of 
light be so desirable and important — if it made 
blind Bartimcus leap for joy, when he beheld the ' 
light of the natural sun, displaying the beauties "of 
this world ; would not that soul have infinitely 
greater I'cason to leap for joy, to have the sun of 
irighteousness arise, with lieaiing in his wings, and 
io liave the rays of divine knowledge beaming forth 
from the Father of lights, into the sinner's dark un- 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



141 



derstanding ! Althougli I never expect, lite Bar- 
timeus, to behold the beauties of nature, or the face 
of mortal man, even that of my own dear wife and 
children, yet I can say, like one of old, " one thing I 
know, that whereas I was blind, now I see." 

But let us now return to the hotel, wdiere w^e 
returned from the morning prayer-meeting. I 
now ate my breakfast, well knowing the whisper- 
ings and remarks that Vv^ere made about me by 
my associates, w:]io knew not God, and desired not 
the knowledge of his ways. I then got ready and 
made my way to Pennsylvania, apprehensive of 
what reception I should meet wdth among some of 
my former acquaintances, if I made much ado 
about religion ; not, perhaps, that they would 
speak reproachfully of religion, provided it met 
their notions of consistency and propriety. But I 
had an adversary to face, one that will never cease 
to tempt and allure from the path of rectitude 
and safety. I have often compared his devices and 
allurements to the w^hippowil, in his management 
with him v/ho is a stranger to his wdles. If, in 
your strolls through the mountains or hills, you 
approach her nest, you will see her all at once, a 
few feet before you, begin to pitch heels over head, 
as if a wing and a leg had been broken by a fowler* 
If you follow her in her lofty tumblings, for a 
considerable distance at a time, thinking, at every 
step, you would seize her, thus she would lead 
you on, until she had drawn you sufficiently far 



142 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



from her nest, when she vronld suddenly spread her 
wing and sail off, leaving you to laugh at your own 
folly. Having learned her devices, you would not 
be deluded by her again ; neither could the grand 
adversary so easily take me the second time, by the 
same wiles. He was well aware that he could not 
induce me to give up the race. 

At a certain time, when Bonaparte invaded Rus- 
sia, after he and his army had crossed a large 
river, he ordered' every bridge, boat, or floating 
plank to be swept oiF, to prevent a retreat of him- 
self or his men. It was therefore death or victory 
with them. So it was with me. I had swept 'off 
every bridge and plank, upon which the devil had 
so often and so very generously taken me back into 
his own dominions. But thanks be to our Lord 
Jesus Christ, who gave me this great victory of 
decision ! To be thus decided, is half the battle. 
As the vrhippowil allured me from her nest, so the 
enemy of my soul endeavoured to turn my eye of 
faith from the cross of Christ, and set me to work 
on the ve]y same principle upon which I went to 
work to do a heavy coutract. He told me, that 
the harder I laboured the sooner I should earn 
salvation. Instead of making me fec4 it to be a 
cross, heavy to be borne, and as being very humili- 
ating, he began to set the springs of spiritual pride 
in motion, and whispered to me, the first night, 
that I could pray a great deal better than any of 
the mourners that came out with me. That night 



I LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 14r1 

lalso the bar-beeper, one of his agents, said that he 
'had told one of his comrades that I knew much 
• more about getting religion than those that were 
•talking to me. To that my own proud heart wil- 
lingly assented. And the next day, going home, I 
. had another very active agent of his to drive for 
me. And, moreover, I think I rather courted some 
compliments from him, relative to the performances 
of the evening and morning previous. I prayed 
i audibly, in his presence, before I went to bed. 

Captain," said he, "you made a first-rate prayer 
,last night." He also seemed to admire the ear- 
'nestness I manifested. I then joined with him, 
rather ridiculing the ignorance of some jDeople in 
' trying to get religion, and so I went on till conviction 
had nearly left me. However, I could not be per- 
suaded by men or devils that I had religion, until I 
knew for myself that I enjoyed it. I tarried at 
home for about ten days, did a certain amount of 
spraying botii night and day, and attended class- 
'.meeting in Greencastle. I believe there, for the 
iifii-st time, I made my determination known to 
[them, and requested their prayers. 
( About this time I had business that called me to 
i'the city of Washington. I went there with my 
ibrother-in-law, from Indiana. We took lodgings 
j '.at a boarding-house on Pennsylvania Avenue. In 
lithe morning, after breakfast, while my friend went 
tout for two or three hours on business, I lay down 
,'upon my bed, after offering up a prayer to God. I 



144 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



fell asleep and saw a vision, or had a dream, as fol- 
lows : I thought I had come to my sight. I looked 
aiound the room, which seemed filled with a very 
bright and unnatural halo of light. The first thing 
I did, or thought I did, was to raise my hand be- 
fore my eyes to prove whether it was a dream, or 
whether I had really been brought to my sight. I 
thought I saw my .hand plainly ; but to put it be- 
yond doubt that it was not a dream, I thought I 
looked around the room again, and it appeared to 
be filled with heavenly light. I discovered the car- 
pet, chairs, and other furniture in the room, and 
was fully convinced that I was in the city of Wash- 
ington, and had been brought to my sight. But 
that I might have still further proof, I thought I 
went and raised up the front window of my room, 
cast my eye to one end of the avenue, and then to 
the other, and saw the capitol, while the negroes, 
carriages, and all, were passing lively before me, so 
that every doubt was put to flight. I did not seem 
io feel much joy or gratification in beholding the i 
things of time and sense, for my whole soul was ab-* 
sorbed in the desire for spiritual fight. T thought I 
then knelt down in the middle of the floor, and fer- 
vently prayed to God that this temporal sight 
might be the harbinger of spiritual light. While 
in this devotional ex.^rcise I awoke, and found my- 
P':]f in temporal and spiritual blindness and dark- 
ness. 

Then I think I began for the first time to have a 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 145 

E ta^te of the joys of tlie upper world ; but it was a 
ll mere taste in comparison to tlie rich feasts of which 
j I have been made the happy partaker since. I be- 

Heved then as I do now, that it was a crumb from 
I my Master's table, which served to increase my 
; faitli, and encourage my soul on its pilgrimage to 

Canaan. 

Before I left the city I called on Dr. Buel, a cel- 
ebrated physician of that place, who gave me little 
or no encouragement of ever receiving my sight. 
, So I returned home again to Pennsylvania, and then 
for three' or four months I was almost constantly 
travelling from place to place, trying to settle up my 
business. This perplexed my mind much, ana 
crowded out many ardent desires for heaven. I had 
deahng^s with those who made this world their god, 
and abundance of money their heaven. But thanks 
be to God i who bore up my head above, the deep 
waters and dashing waves, 
i My business now led me to the city of Baltimore. 
! I had for my guide a very wild but pleasant young 
! man, about twenty years of age, a son of Dr. Boggs. 
He had just emerged from college, and his head 
scarcely entertained one serious thought ; but, Goc? 
be praised ! he has since been sprinkled unto pardor 
and sanctification by the atoning blood of Jesu3 
j and has become a Methodist preacher. Yv^e re- 
I mained in Baltimore I think about ten days, during 
1 which time I was engaged in the daytime in settling 
=th the railroad coLapai^y; ':;nd UAore wero 
10 " 



146 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



fourteen or fifteen large Methodist churches, if I 
mistake not, in the city of Baltimore, I had no diffi- 
culty, at any time, to find some kind of a Methodist 
meeting. I went one night to a love-feast, in a part 
of the city called Old Town. I was waited on by 
a young boy, a son of the widow with whom we 
boarded — for a Methodist meeting would have been 
a purgatory at that time to my friend Boggs. At 
the love-feast there were present probably tvro hun- 
dred members. I heard one and another in quick 
succession give in their testimony, telling exactly 
the day and the hour when God for Christ's sake 
forgave all their sins : some of them dating their 
experience back more than fifty years — others from 
that down to. a very few days previous — most 
of them telling how happy they then felt, and 
expressing the lively hope they had of ere long 
enjoying that rest that remains for the people of 
God. I now began to feel the need of a Saviour 
more than I had ever before done, and I arose and 
told thencL that I had a different story to tell them 
fi-om any I had heard that evening — I could not 
say that I ever had my sins forgiven — for I then 
felt them intolerable to bear, and desired all tlieir 
prayers for me. It was not long before a brother 
came to me and invited me to come and kneel 
down at the altar, and the brethren would pray for 
me, saying that perhaps God would receive me into 
3iis kingdom tliat night ; so I soon found myself 
kneeling at the altar, where the most fervent prayers 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 147 

were put up to the sinner's Friend. But alas ! I 
was not yet brought out of myself, or from seli*- 
righteousness. I arose from my knees and went 
home, with a sorrowful countenance. I told the 
brethren I felt no relief, but that I believed God 
would before long pardon my sins — still renting 
, under that dangerous delusion, that it would requii-o 
a great many more prayers, and a flood more of 
tears, and more penance, before such a sinner, as I 
felt myself to be, would be entitled to an interest in 
Christ. I was building a tower like that of Babel, 
whose top should reach to heaven. 

The next Saturday night I went to street 

Church to a prayer-meeting. I had been there be- 
fore, and my case had been made known to them. 
The brethren prayed over me and for me, but 
seemingly to no effect. The next day waa to be 
communion, and I went home with the preacher 
that night, with whom I had had some acquaintance 
a few years before in Pennsylvania. Morning came, 
and I went to church' with him. I wept and 
mourned during preaching; I felt that I was an 
awful sinner ; and when the brethren were invited 
to commune, one came to me and invited me also. 
I was at first almost horror-stricken at the idea of 
such a sinner, as I felt myself, partaking of those 
holy symbols, and I refused ; *but .being overper- 
suaded by old professors, I concluded that they must 
know the way better than I, and so I yielded, asking 
Crod U) lay not the sin to my charge, if it was a sin. 



II 

148 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

Thus for the first time I partook, with a trembling 
hand and a fearful heart, of the supper of our Lord. 
0, what an advantage the adversary of my soul took 
on this occasion to tempt and try me ! — telhng me 
that if I had pTayed long enough, as I ^vas doing, 
I might have been blessed, but now I had eaten and 
drunk damnation to my soul ! I vv^ent home to m^j 
boarding-house, awfully fearing it was true, while the 
word reprGoaie rung like a death-knell in my ears. 

I wa.s now labouring under despair, mingled with 
a very faint- hope. I arose about midnight, felt 
round the room and found the Bible, and took 
it in my hands, solemnly and fervently praying 
God that he would show me some rehef on the 
pages, that I might then open and have read to me 
in the morning, I then opened the Bible and laid 
a mark in it, and in the morning I requested my 
friend Boggs to read to me the chapter I had laid the 
mark on as the Bible lay open. To my astonishment 
he read the eleventh chapter of first Corinthians, 
which treated on the very subject that caused addi- 
tional distress to my soul — feehng that I had eaten 
and drunk unworthily, not discerning the Lorc^'s' 
body. Whether it was a mere matter of accident, 
or a special providence, I am unable to say ; but I * 
do not know that I received any comfort in reading 
the chapter, not having a spiiitual discernment of 
what I read. If I received any strengtli from it., it 
was from the singular circumstance of turning to 
that particular passage. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



149 



I was now in horrible doubt. I went to prayer- 
meeting Monday night and tried to pray, but I was 
as cold and unfeeling as a heathen philosopher. 
The impression was now pretty well established on 
my mind that I had either sinned away the day of 
gi-ace, or (as I was now rather inclined to Calvinistic 
principles) that I was quite hkely a reprobate ; all 
feeling or desire to seek religion or utter a prayer 
seemed to be fled, and I seemed hke Ephraim, left 
to myself : this was truly a horrible state of mind. 
Thus I remained till the next day in the afternoon. 
Nature being exhausted I lay down upon my bed 
and fell asleep, and again I saw a vision, or dreamed 
that I could see, and looking around the room it 
seemed to be filled with unusual light of* the same 
appearance that I sav7 at Washington. I then held 
the same soliloquy, doubting whether it was a dream 
or in truth a restoration of my sight ; but to remove 
all doubt on the subject, I brought my hand before 
my eyes and thought I could see it. The thought 
then recurred to me of my dream or disappointment 
at Washington, and to be doubly sure I looked 
around the room again, which appeared to be full 
of bright glory, discovering the furniture to my view 
in every particular. The idea then arose in my 
mind that I was in Baltimore, and to satisfy myself 
more fully of the fact, I thought I raised my front 
window. There I viewed the stores, and the rail- 
road cars moving on — satisfied myself of w^hat 
sti'eet I was on, and at the same time it occurred to 



150 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



me that this identical circumstance was presented 
to me in a dream at "Washington. But now all 
doubts were removed. I believed that I was awake, 
and that I was really restored to sio^ht. I ao-ain 
knelt down in the middle of the iioor, as I thought, 
without any seeming joy at being restored to sight, 
and prayed most fervently that this might be a 
•token that God had not left me entirely, and that 
the Sun of righteousness might yet arise upon me to 
go down no more forever. In this .^ittitude of devo- 
tion I opened my eyelids on total darkness ; but I 
kiiow^ that I received another crumb n'om the table 
of the Lord; I felt a degree of heavenly joy in my 
soul, and fully believed that it was a token from the 
Lord that I had not entirely sinned avray the day 
of oTace. I was now able to exercise considerable 
faith, and for once had got the victory over the 
accuser of the brethren that had been charging mo 
A^ith desecrating the holy sacrament, and with being 
a reprobate, &c. 

I was now ready to return , to Pennsjdvania. 
Soon after my return home I went to a quarterly 
meeting that was held in Waynesburg, Franklin 
County. Saturday evening there was a love-feast 
held in the church. I had been praying for more 
conviction — that God would send his arrows into 
my soul, that I might feel the stings of an awakened 
conscience, and be shown the very worst of my de- 
ceitful and corrupt heart. I had been in the love- 
feast but a little while when I felt as much pain as 



LIFE OF G. W, HENRY. 



151 



soul and body "both could endure. The de>dl whis- 
pered to me that it was the cholera morbus — but it 
was a new disease to me. A mourners bench was 
presented, and I came forward with some others 
I groaned and begged for mercy, while hot and 
bitter tears were following each other in quick suc- 
cession down my cheeks. Others around me were 
converted and went off shouting, some perhaps the 
first night they came forward. As for me, I had 
been weeping between the porch and the altar for 
many long weeks. I went home under deeper con- 
viction perhaps than ever, jather beheving that I 
had received an answer to my prayer that the Lord 
would send me deeper conviction. 

About this time there was an idea came into my 
head thai I had better go to some other Church than 
the Methodist — that I was perhaps too much preju- 
diced in feivour of that Church ; and my prayer was 
then, " Lord, send me relief anywhere or in any man- 
ner — only remove this grievous load of sin." So I 
thought I would make a trial at the Presbyterian 
Church avhile. Everything was there done up with 
decency and in order, w^hich is well-pleasing in the 
sight of the Lord. Ceremonies are very good, and 
doubtless orthodox ; but Christians sometimes differ 
in their notions of decency and order in spiritual 
things. No doubt there was a great difference of 
opinion on this subject amongst the multitude that 
were gathered together on the day of Pentecost, 
when the Holy Ghost came upon them hke a mighty 



152 TRIALS AND THttlMPHS IN THE 

• 

rushing wind — for so is every one that is horn of the 
Spirit, John iii, 8— when there were three thousand 
converted in one day. A certain portion of the 
assembly — Jews — professors of religion too, pro- 
nounced it disorderly and indecent, charging the 
converts with being drunk ; and no doubt these had 
that appearance to them that were without spiritual 
discernment. We see something of it in these later 
days — some that are born into the Idngdoni, even at 
the age of fifty years, will leap and jump hke the 
pilgiim that Bunyan describes : after he had passed 
through the wichet-gate and began to c'.imb the 
hill, and while he stood and gazed upon t-ie cross, 
beholding the heavenly victim that hung bleeding 
for him, his burden rolled off into the sepulchre, to 
be remembered no more against him ; he then 
took three leaps towards the celestial city, and went 
on his way rejoicing. Some, v\'hen they are con- 
verted, are laid prostrate on the floor ; others are 
laughing, and have a nevr song put into their mouths, 
and shout Glory ! glory ! and it is as natural for a 
young convert to give God the glory as it is for a 
new-born babe to desire the breast. I laean now 
that man that God has spoken peace to — not hke 
the man that Mr. Whitefield speaks of as meeting 
him in the street in London, who staggered up to 
him and addressed him very affectionately after 
this manner : " Brother Whitefield, I am glad to see* 
you, for you are the very rnan that converted my 
soul at 3uch a meeting.'* "Ah," says Whitefield, 



UiTE OF G. W. HENRY. 



153 



you look like some of my work ! If God had con- 
veited yoiij you would not now be staggering under 
tJie influence of rum " Alas ! I awfally fear that 
many have had peace spoken to them by their 
preacher when God has not spoken the life-giving 
word, and are rocked to sleep in the Church in a 
state of carnal security. May God awaken the 
sleeping reader ere he sleeps the sleep of eternal 
death ! Yes ; no doubt many of the Jews were 
highly displeased at the order of things when three 
thousand new bottles were filled with new wine from 
the kingdom at once. Every man that is in Christ 
Jesus is a new creature; and who will say that it 
was out of order or indecent, although one-half of 
that number had staggered and fallen, and the other 
half had been shouting glory in every language ? 
Do you think, reader, that God was not pleased with 
his own work on that occasion ? That was my no- 
tion of decency and order then, and it has been con- 
firmed by experience since. I am willing to let God 
work in his own " mysterious way, his wonders to 
perform." I would not wdsh to be understood tliat 
there are none born into the kingdom without all 
these outward demonstrations. O no! some he 
approaches in the still small voice, and they are 
melted into tenderness, and love, and joy, and 
peace. But to return to the chain of my own ex- 
perience. 

I found no relief in the R-esbyterian Church, but 
began to feel less conviction, and was told more than 



154 TRIALS AKD TEITmPHS IN THE 

once, by professoi^ of religion, that I had really got 
religion — assigning, as the reason for the opinion, 
that I did not feel the weight of guilt and sin as I 
had a few days previous, saying that the difficulty 
with me was that I would not acknowledge it. I 
thank God for early impressions, and for having 
heen reared by one that believed in that religion 
that is attended with joy in the Holy Ghost, and 
that is manifested with power from on high. Is 
not this a rock on which thousands have split? 
When the Holy Ghost has ceased for a time to re- 
prove them of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, 
(which is not religion, but only a trial of their faith,) 
they settle down under this sickening calm. But 
all their arguments to convince me that I had got 
religion were but as chaff to me. I wanted to feel 
some of the joy and happiness that I had heard my 
old mother so often speak of and seemingly mani- 
fest, as well as many other Christian witnesses, and 
of that Comforter that the Bible speaks so much of. 

About this time I was in Greencastle, Pa., at a 
hotel where I had frequently boarded. In the after- 
noon I retired to my room to obtain sleep. After 
falling asleep, I dreamed I saw the same vision 
precisely which I had seen beforo in Washington 
and in Baltimore. I dreamed I saw that same 
glorious and unnatural light filling the room, and, 
strange as it may appear, I thought I had been 
brought to my sight ; and, to prove the fact, I again 
brought my hand before my face, and again held 



LliFE 01? G. "W. HENRY. 



1S5 



tjie same soliloquy, recalling to my mind the two 
former dreams as clearly and as distinctly as if I 
really been awake. But to put the cr-s^ be- 
yond all doubt, I looted minutely at the particular 
kind of calico of which the bed-quilt was made, as 
well as at the furniture and the room, belie\dng fully 
that I was in Greencastle ; and to be still more sure, 
if possible, I raised the window, as in the other 
places, and beheld the boys playing in the streets, 
and recognised them. I then knelt, as I thought 
that I had been brought to sight, and, vrhile praying 
fervently for spiritual light, my ^yes opened again, 
as before, on darkness. I had another crumb from 
my Master's table, and felt some of the joys of the 
upper world. 

I now began to look forward to a camp-meeting 
that was appointed to take place on the lifch of 
August, by the Methodists, about two miles and a 
half from my father-in-law's : here I hoped to find 
relief Having witnessed the power of God at camp- 
meetings in my early days, and ha^-ing heard so 
many witnesses date their conversion and happy de- 
liverance from the doininion of the power of dark- 
ness at such meetings. I had at this time faith to 
believe that God would bless me there. Ac<:ord- 
^^g^y? I went at the beginning of the meeting. The 
fii-st.two days were very rainy, and the Methodists 
did not seem to get fairly into the stream. The 
third day came, and I began to feel that time was 
precious and swiftly passing away, and that unless I 



lob TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN TH2 

got relief at that camp-meeting, I slioiilcl be irre- 
trievably lost. 

At evening, before the horn sounded for preach- 
ing, there was a prayer-meeting in one of the tents, 
where some were shouting glory, others mourning 
as the dove and chattering as the swallow, while 
many voices, male and female, were mingled in fer- 
vent prayer for the mourning souls. I was knelt at 
the bench, wrestling for eternal life. Xow the horn 
sounds for preaching. A suggestion came to me- 
that there was too much excitement there forme, 
and I had heard Christians tell of getting relig-ion 
alone under some tree in the woods ; so I took the 
little boy that was my guide, and directed him to 
lead me a considerable distance dovra into the 
woods. ISTow, it was a rainy, dark, and dismal night ; 
and when we arrived at a place a considerable dis- 
tance from the camp-ground, where I supposed I 
should be unmolested by the footsteps of any human 
being, and where the eye of God only wds upon. me, 
there I resolved to wrestle, like Jacob, until he 
should bless me. ' It was with some difficulty that 
I could persuade my little boy to go away and leave 
me in that dark and lonesome spot ; but, as he left 
me, I charged him to say nothing to any one where 
I was. 

I then knelt at the foot of a tree, the cold raia 
pattering upon me, and chilling me to the \dtals. 
My tongue seemed to be almost silent and lifeless ; 
I could scarcely utt^r a word that could be constnied 



I LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. ' 15? 

iinto a prayer ; and, instead of its being a retired and 
quiet spot, it seemed tliat all the devils about tbe 
' camp -ground were sent that way to disturb me— 
"'cursing, swearing, and blackguarding, and occasion- 
Uily th^ovring sticks at me, but none came up to 
inarm me. So I remained in this doleful situation 
until after preaching, when my little boy came and 
led me back to the cami3. It beino: so rainy, I 
ihink they had na prayer-meeting after preaching, 
jand I went home that night without feeling any relief. 

The next day and evening there was preaching ; 
after the sermon closed, at eight or nine o'clock in 
the evening, mourners were invited to come l^jrward. 
Now, I had got Ca]vinistic reprobation nearly dis- 
posed of, and my prayer before I went out to the 
bench was, that God, by some display of his 
power, would convince me that he had not left me 
Pto 'mysel£ I went forward deliberately, ' Idi 
av.iui solemnity, and knelt doym, feeling that I was 
banging by a slender thread over the gulf -of dark 
despair. • 0!-how indescribable were my feelings 
at that time I But I had not been there more than 
two or three minutes before a sudden tremrliiig, 
or a spasm, seized me, and I was laid : : _ 
my back, as you Avould lav over an iniant. ihe 
bi'OiJiren would often tell me to exercise faith, and 
to believe the promises of God, y^hich I thought I 
had a full belief of, and I have since discovered that 
I had ; but it was not a saving belief — it was a mere 
historical foith. 



158 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN TH2 



While I lay thus upon my back the devil inti'oduo- 
ed to me.Unitarianism, and upon that I undertook to 
exercise my faith. I would direct my mind to the 
Saviour kneeling in the garden — follow him to 
Pilate's hall — th^n to the top of Calvary — view him 
nailed to the cross — thence to the tomb of Joseph 
of Arimathea — witness his resurrection and ascen- 
sion to the skies, and, just as he was about to enter 
the upper regions, there would seem to be something 
like a meteor flash over the sky at the place where 
he entered. At this juncture of the case I vrould 
be thrown into spasms, dreadfully convulsed and 
cramped, j^ow, the great trouble with me vvas to 
get the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost united in one. 
I would get my eye upon the Saviour in one place, 
God sitting upon his throne as an earthly potentate, 
and the Holy Ghost as something so intangible, so 
to speak, that I could not get them fixed together 
so as to make them but one God. In this position I 
lay in silent but sensible invocation for perhaps two 
hours, beiiig fully resolved if there was any such 
thiug as my exercising faith that I would do it that 
night. The devil made me beheve I had hit on the 
right plan, and that I vras perfectly .orthodox, and 
tliat if I could only manage to unite the Trinity into 
one tangible form, I should gain my desired object. 
So soon as I was relieved from the convulsions of 
my body, I would begin with the Saviour at Geth- 
semaue, and follow him step by step until his ascen- 
sion into heaven ; then that same flash would vividly 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



159 



^ display itself, and that instant I would be thrown 
!. into cramp convulsions. Thus I was buflfeted with 
J Arianism, until the brethren took me into the tent 
perfectly sensible of my situation, being convinced 
that now some other plan must be tried, and that it 
^] was in vain for me to attempt to unite the mysteri- 
ous Three in One. 

So, retiring to bed nearly worn out with exhaust- 
ion, I fell asleep. ^ The next day I went home and 
tried to gather up a little rest, determined to make 
another effort, that night for heaven. Between 
I sundown and dark I mounted my horse, with my 
little boy on behind me, to make my way to meet- 
hig. It thundered and lightened very hard on our 
way thither. Just before we turned down to the 
camp I saw a flash of hghtning as plainly as ever I 
saw one in my life. You will not forget, reader, 
that your author was all this time totally bhnd. I 
spoke to my boy and asked him if that was not an 
extraordinary flash of hghtning ? He replied, " Did 
you see it I told him I did. He then asked me 
if I saw that one that had flashed that m^oment 
with equal glare. I told him I did not. xsTow, this 
strengthened my faith. I believed it to be ominous 
of something good ; so I entered the camp with a 
pretty good hope that I should soon be blessed. It 
being very rainy, there was no mourner's bench set 
out. I went into a prayer-meeting in a tent ad- 
joining the one where I lodged. I tried to pray, 
and seemed to have more liberty in prayer than 



100 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



usual ; and before Ileft the tent, at twelve o'clock, 
I began to feel the day-star rising in my soul. I 
went into my lodging,- wliicli was literally filled, 
with the exception of a space large enough for me 
to lie down between a hardened old sinner and one 
of the brethren. I committed my soul to God in 
prayer, and laid down, feeling a little hghter than I 
did the night before when I laid down. 

All, I believe, were asleep, with the exception of 
an elderly maiden sister, by the name of Catharine 
Acre ; she was bowed down with the rickets from her 
youth ; her moral as well as her physical features 
had ever been to me as a root out of dry ground, 
for, hke every other sinner, I saw no beauty in deep, 
fervent piety, no more than I did in her hunchback. 
I had been for months previous travelling through 
Virginia, Washington City, Baltimore, and other 
places, running after great preachers, and found no 
rehef. Little did I think that I was to be convert- 
ed under a sermon of less than five minutes in 
length from aunt Kitty ; but I do beheve that God 
kept her awake that night to preach to me, for it is 
written : " He has chofien the weak things of this 
wcili to confound the wisdom of the wise, and 
things that are base and despised hath God chosen 
to bring to naught things that are giving for a 
i-eason, " that no flesh or minister should glory in his 
presence." 

She then began to talk about the simpHcity of 
Baving faith, and what an easy thing it was to lay 



iilFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



161 



' \o\d of the Saviour, if we coiild but come down as a 
jl ^ittle child in asking a parent for bread. I then be- 
i gan to review some of the dealings of the Lord 
with me. I b^au back at the Sabbath that he 
ji turned me back when on my way to Berkley 
Springs, and then his taking my idol child the same 
day — then my month's sickness in Martinsburg — 
the scattering of my property to the four winds — 
my rescue from a watery grave — my three singular 
visions at "Washington, Baltimore, and Greencastle, 
\ and the flash of lightning I had seen the night .be- 
fore. All these convinced me that God was with 
me in all these things. I then took a re^aew of the 
many ways I had tried to exercise faith, and said, 
JTow, Lord, I know of no way that I have not tried, 
and, like Peter when he was sinking in the deep, I 
cried : "Lord, thou must save, or I perish forever I" 
At that moment the blessed Eedeemer appeared 
unto me the one altogether lovely — that moment 
ji God, for Chiist's sake, forgave all my sins. 

*' Hail, my blessed Jesus, 

Only tliee I wish to sing ; 
To my soul tliy name is precious. 

Thou my Prophet, Priest, and King. 
** 0, what mercy flows from heaven, 
^1 0, what joy and happiness ! 

'i Lore I much ? — I *ve much forgiven — 

' I ^m a miracle of grace. 

" Once, with Adam's race in ruin, 

Unconcem'd in sin I lay ; 
Swift destruction still pursuing, 

Till my Saviour passM that war. 



^2 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

Witness, all ye hosts of heavea, 
My Redeemer's tenderness ! 
, Love I miicli ? — 've much forgiven — 

I 'm a miracle of grace. 

j. Shout, ye bright angelic choir ; 

j • Praise the Lamb enthron'd aboye ; 

. j While astonished, I admire 

God's free grace and boundless loya. 

*' That bless'd moment I receiv'd him, 
FilPd my soul with joy and peace ; 

Xjove I much ? — I 'v.e much forgive® — 
I 'm a miracle of grace." 

M 



CHAPTER X. ! | 

t 

Here, reader, you behold a sinner for the first tirae \ \ 
in his life, after crossing the line of accountability to ' j 
God, safely within the gates of the city of refuge, * 
and for the first time feeling that blood applied to; ' 
his soul which speaketh better things than that of i 
Abel. This was the new birth. Here were some 
fruits from the tree of life; here were gi-apes and 
pomegranates from the holy land ; and here was a 
full and experimental proof that the kingdom ai^ ] \ 
grace is not of meats and drinks — of outward forms ' 
and ceremonies — l -ut that tlie fundamental and soul- 
cl leering principles oi the true religion of Jesus 
Christ are righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy 
Ghost. I was now prepared to say, with the psalm- 
: " Come unto, me, ail ye that fear the Lord, and 

(II 



LIFE OF G, W. HENRY. 



163 



I Will tell you what lie hatli done for my soul : as 
far as the east is from the west, so far hath he sep- 
arated my sins from me." I needed not mortal 
man to come and say to me, " Brother Henry, you 
have got religion if you will only believe it." . no I 
Glory be to God, I knew it for myself, for I had the 
witness within me, for the first time, that my Re- 
deemer lived ; and because he lived, I should live 
with him, for Jesus said to his disciples, *'In that 
day ye shall know that I am in the Father, you in 
me, and I in you." Christ was then formed vrltliin, 
the hope of glory. 

'Now I had been able, throuQ-h ftiith, to snrin^n; 
the bolt that had baiTcd out the sinner's Friend, 
when he was saying, " Behold, I stand at the door 
and knock ; if any man will hear my voice and open 
unto me, I will come in and sup with him, and he 
with me." Yes, dear reader, I was then entertaining 
the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. what a 
heavenly honour for a poor ftillen rebel ! He that 
had been as a root out of dry gi-ound to me, with- 
out form or comehness, now appeared most divinely 
fair and beautiful. 

•I had prescribed many ways, during the hours of 
my conviction, in which I should be brought out, 
but all mj plans and notions proved futile and 
illusive. The moment that I received the pleJigo of 
love, pardon and peace, 1 broke out into an in- 
voluntary laughter that might have been h(^rd all 
over the canip-gvouiidj which continued, t cihaps. 



164 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



for five mmutes ; and, as soon as I could articulate a 
word, I shouted, for tlie first time in my life, " Glory 
to God" — for my soul was full of glory and of Gcxi. | 

By this time our tent ^vas surrounded vriih a cloud 
of living witnesses that had been waht^d up— not 
by the groanings and cries of the poor blind man — - 
bat by shouts and a new song of praise unto Him 
that had given the victory. About this time sister 
Keagy, whose tent I was "in, came and sat down by 
my head and sung a heavenly anthem, seemingly 
with an ang-elio voice; fancy then pictured her to 
me as a heavenly messenger, clothed in white 
raiment ; and her appearance h equally vivid to mj 
mind's eye at the present time, and no doubt will 
so continue till I meet brother and sister Keagy the 
other side of Jordan, vvhen fnith will be swallowed 
lip in sight, and hope in full fi'uition lost — 

*' Where the saints of all a^:-?- in lii-rmoii-^ m?ct, 

Their Savioiir and brethr r ; ; i 

Where anthems of rapture . : .^l;- ro.i, 

Ai-id the smiie of the Lord is the feast of the sonl/-' 

Perhaps, in this most important period of my 
whole hfe, it may be well to pause for a moment 
and review the dangerous road over which we have 
just travelled. And you will allow me to exhort 
you, my dear reader, to enter in at this strait 
gate, othervrise you cannot go down to your grave 
in peace ; unless you are blessed and holy in this 
life, you can have no part in the first resiurection, 
£3 1 imderstand the Scrii'tures. I do nol moan this 



LIFE OF G. TV. EENEY. 165 

I' boot, to be in the least tinctnred witli sectarianism ; 
,| but, as our Saviour said to Xicodemus, " We speak 
that Tvhich "^e do knovr, and testify that which we 
have seen." John iii, 11. Alas! how willing will 
' many of my readers be to believe that part of my 
book which recounts the follies and wickedness of 
the days of my youth, as well as the business mis- 
takes of my riper yeai-s, while what relates to divine 
and holy things will be disbeheved or rejected by 
the unconverted. 

But you know you have the piivilege of receiving 
or rejecting any portion of these pages you please. 
The prophet Isaiah saith, "Who has believed our 
report, and luito w^hom has the arm of the Lord been 
^ revealed?" Every soundly converted Christian 
must believe the report. Yes, you may bring a 
thousand men and women together into one assembly, 
, who have been truly sprinkled unto pardon and 
, sanctification by the blood of Jesus, and who are 
1 now travelling on the King's highway of holiness, 
j and let them give in their testimony, and there 
; will be found none conflicting, and there Tvill be 
no denial of this heaven-born principle, notwith- 
standing Providence may have had a way peculiar 
to each individual in bringing him through the ^ 
strait gate: some may have come in leaping 
and shouting, others may have been melted as wax 
before the sim. But you will hear them all agree 
1 in this one important point, that they know they 
I have entered through the door into the sheepfold. 

I 



166 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



Although they may belong to different denomina- 
tions, yet they have one shepherd, and they know 
his voice. Yes, there may he twenty different de- 
nominations, each having its own peculiar notions 
of Church government — speaMng as many different 
tongues, if you please, as were heard on the day of 
Pentecost — still there will be found harmony of 
sentiment as to the new birth — they all speak the 
language of Canaan. T defy the critic, the sceptic, 
or the infidel, to tell from the testimony they give 
what denomination they belong to. Yes, glory be 
to God I some of every nation and kindred, of all 
sorts and ages, shall stand in that blessed assembly 
at the last. Dear reader, what are your j^rospects '? 
— should thi^ lamp of life be blown out at your 
next breath, would you be left in the dark, or 
vrould a convoy of bright angels waft your dis- 
embodied spirit to realms of endless bliss, to join 
the bloovd-washed throng ? Pause, reflect, examine 
j'our hope — see if you can read your title clear 
to that inheritance that is incorruptible and full 
of glory. 

As it is the great object of this work that the 
reader may profit even by my loss, not only in 
temporal but in spiritual thing's, it were v/ell to 
review some features of my spiritual hfe thus far. 
In looking back upon my wanderings from the time 
I made a solemn league and covenant with God 
to seek his face till I should find mercy, I find it 
was five months before I entered in at the strait 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



16t 



gate, and my track was meandering and difficult, 
lite the wandering of tlie Israelites forty years in 
the wilderness. But there is a nearer- and less dif- 
ficult way to come to Christ. He vvas just as ready 
to re<^ive me into his kingdom the first day of 
my conviction of sin, had I come to him with full 
purpose of heart, as he was at the end of my five 
months' mourning and sorrow. When the children of 
Israel had been "bitten by fiery serpents, Moses was 
ordered to make a serpent of brass and set it upon a 
pole, with a promise that v/henever a person was bit- 
ten, if he looked upon the serpent of brass, he should 
be healed. This remedy was too simple to be be- 
lieved — and much people of Israel died — v^hile they 
were ransacking Arabia from the Ked Sea to Jordan 
for some other antidote for the pangs of the poison- 
ous serpent — gaziiig at the same time with sorrow 
upon then* putrefying wounds ; but every one that 
did look was healed, however desperate might have 
been his case. So it was with me : instead of 
looking at the great Antitype that vras lifted up on 

• the cross, with the promise from God that whoso- 
ever beheved on him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life, I was' gazing on my mountain of 

: sins— on everything but him who was lifted up for 
the healing of the nations. But, glory be to his 

■ name ! I was not left to die in the wilderness. 
There was yet balm in Gilead — 

, *' \Viien all the doctors' opiates fail, 

i This crand specific v/ill jjrevail." 



168 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



I was as ignorant of tlio true and Hying vrhj as 
the poor old negro, who, like myself, inquiring what 
he should do to be saved, w^as told that he must 
w^ork out his own salvation with fear and trembling ; 
and accordingly he went to work on his own hook, 
praying and labouring, weeping and mourning for 
many long months, till nature was nearly exhausted, 
when he was constrained to cry out in sore lamen- 
tation, " 0, good Lord and Massa ! I have been 
working all the ways I know of to obtain salvation, 
but have been groAving worse and worse — and if 
dar be any help in de world for poor nigger, you '11 
have to do it !" And that moment poor Cato 
shouted. Glory ! 

This is the true saving faith — when we are 
brought out of ourselves, and when we make a full 
surrender of all we have and all vre are into the 
liands of Christ. 

But drops of grief can ne'er repay 
The debt of love I owe ; 
• Here, Lord, I give ni3^self away, 
'Tis all that I can do." 

Yes, here was the great mistake with me — I was 
filled too much with my own wisdom and my own 
works — asking God to convert me for my prayei-s 
and tears. If these would gain heaven, it would 
supe-i^.ede the necessity of a Savioui* : there x>re it ia 
of faitli and not of works, that it may be of grace. 
But true repentance and prayers of faith are the 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRIT. 



169 



means appointed by oui- Heavenly Fatlier to obtain 
tte blessings lie designs to give. 

l^ow, reader, please go back with me to that hap- 
py morning, which was the 10th of August, 1842, 
and just before the break of day, when 1 was visited 
by the day-spring from on high, and when the sun 
of righteousness dispelled all ^darkness and doubt 
and fear from my soul. Here you see my mourn- 
ing turned into laughter — my soiTOwing into shout-' 
ing — and my bitter tears into tears of delight. He 
that is in Christ is a new creature. Yes, I felt that 
old things were done away, and all things had be- 
come new. Probably I enjoyed the same feehng 
of triumph that made David feel as if he could run 
through a troop and leap over a wall. I had in 
my mind's eye a perfect view of the encampment — 
and I had faith to believe that I could walk right 
upon the preacher's stand alone, and, like Paul on 
Mars' Hill, preach Jesus and the resurrection. But, 
like Peter walking on the water, my faith might 
have failed me. It was to me like the vision of 
Balaam, when he said, " How goodly are thy tents, 
Jacob, and -thy tabernacles, Israeli" The 
morning sun arose, dispelling darkness from the 
earth, shining upon the evil and the good, and 
lightening the pathway of the rich and poor, the 
white and black; but Providence in mercy had 
dropped the sable curtain between me and the 
lovely face of nature— I had looked for the last 
time on the sun, the moon and the stars — for 



170 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IIT THE 



the last time had my eyes beheld my dear moth- 
er, my loving wife and tender children, till the 
morning of the resiuTection, when Jesus shall come 
again, with legions of angels, to gather up his jew- 
els. " They shall be mine in that day, saith the 
Lord." Although he had shut out this vain world 
forever from my sight, yet, glory be to his holy 
name, he had now opened to my yievv^ an infinitely 
brighter and hajjpier world, where Jesus bid me 
come — and whoever will may come. 

As I arose in the morning and was washing my 

face and hands, sister S approached me with 

the morning salutation, and said, "AYell, captain, 
you are washing?" ''Yes," I replied, "glory to 
God, I am washed and I felt what I said, that I 
was washed from my sins in the layer of regenera- 
tion — my feet, my hands, my head and my heart ; 
and that moment faith bi'ought a fresh supply of 
heavenly joy into m.y soul, which caused me to 
breah out into loud and hearty laughter. She then 
remai'ked that her aunt, who slept with her a few 
tents distant, ^vas quite distressed when slie heard 
me laugh so heartily a few hours 'previous, sayiug 
that poor Captain Henry had become a maniac and 
lost his mind. " Yes," said I, " I have lost the old 
carnal mind, and I'eceived in the place of it the 
mind that was in Christ Jesus." This good aunt, 
like Xicodemus, had come by night, not to inquire 
what she should do to be saved, for she sat in one 
of the high seats of the synagogue when at home, 



LIFE 05" G. W. HENtllr. 



i'l>ut perhaps to gratify her curiosity with Methodist 
! delusion. Nor was her remark intended as sar- 
casm, for she was a friend of mine, and a well-wisher 
of religion ; but, hke the Jews, she had never seen it 
1 after that fashion before. 

! At eio'ht o-clock that mornins; there was to be a 
I prayer-meeting in the sheepfold. I was looking to 
that as a rich gospel feast. The horn soon sounded, 
and they gathered around the altar, and I with 
them, full of joy and peace. 

** I did not believe that I ever should grieve, 
That I ever should suffer again." 

0! how mistaken are young soldiers when they 
first enlist under Prince Immanuel — when they have 
just laid off their rags of sin, and clothed them- 
selves from head to foot with the armour of right- 
eousness — aye, while they are exulting with heav- 
enly courage, the war-bugle may summon them to 
the battle where the veteran's nerve will be required. 
So it was with me. As I knelt during the first 
prayer, the archfiend made a dreadful assault — I 
trembled like the aspen leaf. ! what horror and 
darkness brooded ^ver my soul, when he suggested 
to me that I had no religion-^that my joys and 
laughter were ridiculous in the extreme — and that I 
had not only been gulled myself, but had deceived 
all the brethren. Probably I had never done any - 
Ihing in my life that made me feel half so mean or 
ashamed as the ridiculous farce he made me believe 
I had been acting. My awful distress of mind was 



112 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

attended with spasms of body, until I requested t» 
be led out of the prayer-circle into the tent. Yes, 
. gladly would I have been led into a deep cavern of 
the earth, ^vhere no human eye could have seen 
me. ! how little I knew of his devices ! Even 
in this state of the case I remembered my covenant 
at the hotel in Virginia, and asked God to renew i 
again ; and if I had not got rehgion, I was bound 
to have it, or die in the attempt. I then went 
home, a distance of two or three miles, and went 
into my closet, and when I- had shut the door I 
m^estled again for eternal life, and, glory be to God ! 
I found relief — light again broke into my soul, and 
I returned to the camp rejoicing. Here was the 
first battle, and the first victory. Thank God, the 
devil could not get me, by all his wiles, basely 
to desert the army of the Lord. This was the last 
night of the camp-meeting. All was calm, and 
sunshine, and joy in my soul. The next morning 
they all met at the altar, and had a parting address 
from brother Tarring, a preacher and a disciple 
whom Jesus loved. 

I then joined the class on probation, and there 
was not a doubt then in my mind, nor has there 
been since, that my name was recorded in the 
Church triumphant in the Lamb's book of life. 
May the Lord give me grace, vrlsdom, patience and 
strength to triumph over every temptation and every 
obstacle in tliis life, that when the dead, small and 
great, shall stand before God, and the books aro 



I LIFE OF HENRY. 1^3 

Ipened, my came may be found legibly inscribed 
' 1 the Lamb's book of life. While brother Tarring 
ras addressing the converts, he said : " You think 
■'ou are now about as happy as you can be ; but, if 
"ou are faithful, you have received but a drop of 
linne grace in coraparison to the ocean of love that 
twaits you." I thought that brother T. must cer- 
; ainly be mistaken, for I felt that I was already in 
; he ocean. But even three years and a half experi- 
ince has proved that I had but a crumb in compari- 
son to the large slice of the bread of life which I 
iave since had. 

ii I now returned home to mv fatlier-in-law's, fully 
ji the faith that when I should, tell them the story 
of what Jesus had done for me, and how happy I 
felt in his love, they must certainly one and all re- 
joice with me, and that I could state the case and 
plan of redemption so clearly that they coukl not 
refrain from embracing tlie Savic>ur at once — they 
that had not already found him. 1 spoke v/ith holy 
'boldness and in full assurance of faith, but it was 
'ias an idle tale — which caused m^' heart to bleed. 
' The very first thought that came into my mind, 
,: nfter I had received the pledge of love, vvas a prayer 
t'fiiat my wife might be converted — and my second 
desire was to fly to my dear mother, to tell her that 
I her only child had found Jesus — that her prayers 
pi and tears of more than thirty years for the conver- 
li'Bion of my poor soul had at length been answered ; 
' and from that time onward I continued to hold up 



1V4 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS I^^ THE 

my companion, in the arms of faith, to the throno 
of mercy, mitil the 12th of November, 1843, when 
she was brought into the kingdom and shouted 
^' Glory !" — it being a httle over a year from the tiroo 
I was converted. Immediately after I returned from' 
the camp-meeting, I wrote to my mother the fol- 
lowing letter : — 

Greexcastle, Aug. IMi, 1842. 
My Dear Mother, — I received your affectionate 
letter of the 3d of July, which brought tears of joy 
from your afflicted children. ! mother, I am un- 
grateful, when I say I am afflicted, for it seems I am 
now the happiest man living. Last Wednesday 
morning, about one o'clock, at a camp-meeting near 
this place, after I had retired to my bed, my blessed 
Jesus pardoned all my sins, and spoke peace to my 
troubled soul; and, glory be to Go'd, he has filled 
my 'heart with the fulness of joy. 0, mother! 
nothiug short of the pen of an angel could describe 
my feelings. that I could be with you, and 
shout hallelujah to my blessed Jesus I I can now 
see his divine hand and his wonder-workings with 
me for one year past, and I can now sweetly kiss 
the rod of my affliction. I have been seeking the 
Lord for about four months, under a heavy load of 
sin, and have been borne along in a most singular 
manner, and with strange drearms and visions ; how- 
ever, a week would not be suflacient to write what I 
have to say to you, and I must hold it in reserve 



i LIFE OF G. W. HEKRY. 11 5 

i until I come home, which I hope will be as early as 
J' October. 

11 Father Brown has advertisGcl his property for sale, 
i I .will send you a bill of the sale. I have been very 
actively engaged during the summer in trying to 

I close up my business with the various corporations, 
i and I expect I shall be obhged to have a lawsuit 

I I with the Baltimore and Oiiio Eailroad Company, 
which will bring me back to this country for a 

] season, I can now sing, 

" tell me no more of tliis world's vain store." 

But duty and circumstances compel me to deal 
with an unlriendly vrorld. Thank God, this is not 

, my abiding place ; I seek a city out of sight. Susan 
is trying to seek religion — her health is not very 
good this summer. Her little babe is now tolerably 
well. We are both anxious to come home ; Susan 

, sends her best love to you and father, and all the 
rest of our friends in that country. Many of your 
acquaintances in this country inquire about you, and 
wish to be remembered in my letter to you. 

Dear mother, you were the lirst one I thought of 
after my happy emancipation, and I ^\;ished you had 
been with me— v\^e would have shouted together. 
I have a small boy that writes for me, and waits on 
me. Y\^e are living at home. Father Brown and 
Mrs. Work send their love to you ; the old man is 
leeble. ^Vrite me, mother, soon. Give my best 
love to father and all the rest of my hiends. I now 



176 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



close these glad-tidings, dear to your heart, knowing 
that you will still pray for me as you have done — 
that if we meet no more in this world, we are bound 
to meet on Canaan's happy shore. May God grant 
it. Amen. 

Your affectionate son, 
' . ' G.Yf. Henry. 

P. S. I have almost forgotten to tell you that I 
am entirely blind, and most likely always shall be. 
My health and spirits are good. 

The next v>'eek there was a Methodist camp- 
meeting in Maryland, about ten miles from my 
home. I went at the beginning of the feast; there 
were about five hundred white members, and nearly 
the same number of coloured, and I think about 
eighty tents, forming an entire circle, wdth the 
preachers' stand in the middle ; the coloured peo- 
ple's tents forming a half-circle by themselves ; 
there was a sort of pole fence that divided the 
grounds of the blacks and the whites at preaching 
hours. Each vrould con^'egate at the same time by 
themselves in front of the stand — occasionally a 
coloured v;'':^r v.'ould address them; the whites 
vroukl r : mino-le vrith the blacks at their 

] ) I'ii y er-i . . . . tl le blacks were the life of the camp- 
mcctii]o\ Is'ine out of ten of them would have a 
rnv]' - ' ";r singing; and it seems the more 
tlK'\- i . etter thqy get. You might hear 
them singing, praying, and shouting, at a great dis- 



LIFE OP a, W. HENRY. 



lance fi'om the camp-gi-ound ; and I tliinb they 
^njoy, as a body talcen together, quite as much rehg- 
ijion as the whites in that part of Maryhand, and in 
'•the northern part of Virginia. Probably one-third 
, of them are free, it being an agiicuUural part of the 
jicountry ; and it would be impossible for a stranger 
jto discover which were free, or which were 'bond, 
■either in State or in Church, for they are generally 
taught to know^ their place, which is prescribed to 
rthem by the white population, whether it be right 
,or wrong. 

j But to return to the camp-meeting. There was 

'la good feeling generally pervading the encampment ; 

;as for me, I w^as wading in that stream of glory that 
the prophet Ezetiel waderl in till he found it so deep 

/that he swam. The meeting grew better and bet- 
ter, and the last night I was bathing and swimming 
in the ocean of love. It was a Pentecost to me and 
many others. There was little or no sleeping in 
the camp that night. About three o'clock in the 

i morning the negroes formed a procession of about 
five hundred, and marched around within the circle, 

.singing a farewell hymn, while they were joined in 
song (not in procession) by the whites, which made 
the welkin ring. Then they formed a different cir- 

I cle, and gave each a parting hand, accompanied by 
many with weeping and shouting ; then each struck 
his tent at break of day, and moved homeward ; and 
they received a promise from their masters that they 

('should have another jubilee the next year of the 

I 12 

i 



178 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



same kind, on condition of good behaviour ; and tMs, 
with another jubilee during the hohdays of Christmas, 
serves to sweeten their bitter cup for the \vhole year. 

And to me was that night fulfilled that promise of 
the Lord spoken by Malachi the prophet, third chapter' 
tenth verse : " Bring ye all the tithes into the store- 
house, that there may be meat in my house, and 
prove me now herewith, saitli the Lord of hosts, if 
I will not open the windows of heaven, and pour 
vou out a blessino' that there shall not be room 
enough to receive it." Brother Young preached on 
the subject of the day of Pentecost. At the close 
of his discourse, the Holy Ghost, as a mighty rush- 
ing wind, came into my soul. I arose from my seat 
and gave two or three jumps, and then my strength 
failed me, and I was literally laid upon the ground ; 
and felt to say, like the immortal Fletcher on such 
occasions, " Lord, stay thy hand !" for it seemed 
that the windows oi heaven, according to pi'ophecy, 
were opened upon my soul, so that there was not 
room in the earthen vessel to receive it. I then 
learned the secret of the language of the apostle, 
" When I am weak, then am I strong which be- 
fore had seemed to me paradoxical. And 1 was 
not alone at this gospel-feast; i¥jany old saints 
reeled and fell under the power of God, whilst the 
cry and the groan were heard from the sinner, 
" Lord, have mercy on my soul !" Brother Young 
leaped from the stand as a giant exhilarated with 
wine, and went through the congregation shouting 



f 

I 

! 

LIFE OF G. Vr. HENRY. lid 

kild exhorting, and tlie holy fire seemed to iim 
.jimongst the stubble with a perfect blaLS. 
j I had sometimes been tempted, dming the week, 
,|iit some scenes enacted by both sexes when their 
j:up was running over with heavenly raj^ture, that 
feemed to me rather frantic, although I did not 
doubt their honesty or ecstasy of feeling, but thought 
^;:hat their outvvard manifestations seemed to be ac- 
^:3ording to no rules of etiquette, yet I had very 
.^charitably passed it by as a weakness ; but I was 
sfiectually cured of my gross mistake, as to the 
imovings of the Spirit on the hearts of the children 
.of the kingdom. Dear reader, whether you be old 
young, gi-ave or jovial, do not forget that it is 
.your privilege to think what you please, or to make 
jSny remarks that may seem to you proper, about 
ijour hiunble servant, or his simple narration : you 
have a right to beheve (if it so seems to you) that 
this is all fanaticism, and a perfect humbug ; but 
always keep this one thing in your mind, that these 
j outward exhibitions, such as shouting, jumping, 
liaughing, and falling, proceed either from the throne 
..of God and tiie Lamb, or from the prince and 
jpower of darkness. "We read of but two spints in 
|the world, and they are diametrically opposite to 
jeach other ; but I would give you this timely warn- 
ing, that if it shall prove in eternity that they pro- 
:ceed n'om the Spirit of God, it will be with confusion 
of face that \ou will then learn that you have been 
|fighting against God, and perhaj-^s ridiculing hid 



180 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 

cause ; and that tlie King shall say unto you, De- 
part, ye cursed ! for inasmuch as ye have done it 
unto the least of one of these my brethren, ye have 
done it unto me." I have more than once been 
told by my charitable neighbours, that they b^ 
lieved that professors of rehgion often worked them- 
selves up into a delusion. Glory to God, it is a 
happy delusion — something I never experienced tiD 
the 10th of August, 1842, about one o'clock in the 
morning — and I have often found it more abundant 
since that time, and now, while dictating these pages, | 
my heart is all in a flame of this happy feeling 
which my so charitable neighbours call a delusion 
of an enthusiastic brain— and, thank God, I know it 
is Christ formed within me the hope of glory. Sup- 
pose, kind reader, whoever you may be that thinks ' 
this a delusion of the imagination produced by arti- 
ficial means, that you go into some secluded spot, 
:md try if you can work yourself up into this delu- 
sion — see if you can start forth a flood of tears, as 
rivers of dehght — see if you- can cause all your phys-j 
ical strength to depart, while all the faculties of youi' 
mind remain to you serene and unclouded — Drove ; 
it to be a delusion by demonstration like this, a,nd' 
then may you well 1x3 satisfied vAth the truth of 
your notions — but not till then. Perhaps there is 
not one of my reader:', that has relished the pleasures 
of this world more than I have, or has drunk deeper 
of tliem ; but I count them all as husks and chaff*, in 
comparison to what I call the religion of Jesus Christ, 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRV. 



181 



^1 I sought for bliss in glittering toys, 

I I ranged the luring streams of vice, 

But never knew substantial joys 
j; Until I heard my Saviour's voice." 

'i 

^ I agree with the apostle that religion is not a 
Isricunningly devdsed fable. But then, as you know 
^^Ihat YOU have a hcense to think of these tliiDgs ^is 
[j;you like, please come back with me to the cainp- 
),'meeting, for I have more of these things to tell you 
J that look so foohsh to you, before I get through 
; with what I have to say, although but a few will be 
i told in comparison to what I may rel.'i'e to you if 
we shall be permitted to shout together in that 
eternal world of joy to the praise and glory of Him 
' that hath loved us — but let ns return to vrhere the 
author was left lying upon the ground. After I had 
lain there a few minutes physical str ^^ returned 
to me, while my soul was full of g! .f God. 

" If a man love me he v/ill keep my words ; and 
my Father will love him, and we will come unto him 
and make our abode with him." John xiv, 23. 
Yes, reader, on that very condition we may carry 
about with us the Fath^jr and Son, and every sancti- 
fied believer that walko in the Spirit enjoys that sacred 
privilege; and it is ju.^i as much my privilege and 
yours to walk with God, and have the daily 
mony that we please him, as it was the privilege oi 
Enoeh. Your unbelieving heart will deny tl-ir, 
whilst at the ver^- - : ^ "'^ ^- - ^ -"^ • e^r- 
rectly, perhaps, e . _ . .nn 



182 



TRIALS AND TRIUxMPHS IN THE 



with being full of tlie devil. Christ has no cor 
munion with Belial, neither has the temple of G( 
any agTeement with idols. 

The deai-est idol I liLive known, 
^Yliate'er tliat idol be, ' ' 

Help me to tear it from tliv throne, 
And Trorsliip only tlicc." 

I do not think, after I felt the slaying power th; , 
night, that I uttered a prayer to. God for more < ! 
llie Spirit, for I was already filled to overtlowin 
But even at this joyful period Satan was busy v>-i 
his suggestions. His great fear was that I shou 
wound the cause of rehgion by such outward d 
monstrationa, and such loud shouting. I rather f< 
in with his notion, thinking I was acting too mu( 
the negro for a white maa. But my case was liS 
that of one whom Bunyan describes in his Pilgrim' i 
Progress — where the interpreter took one of th; 
pilgrims into a room and showed hiin a fire burri 
ing against a wall, with the devil casliugbn watei' 
but the more water he threw on the higher an- 
hotter grew the flame. The pilgrim inquired of th^ 
interpreter the meaning of that figure. He the: 
took him around behind the waH, and showed hir 
a man with a vessel of oil in his hand — and as th 
devil threw water on the fire this person poured O] 
the oil, which served to increase the fiame. Thqi 
said Christian to the interpreter, "What mean 
Ihis f ^'Tliis," answered tlie interpreter, "is Christ 
who cQutiuually with the oil of his grace maintain 



LIEE OE G. Vr. HENRY. 183 

flame of love in tlie heart, by means of wliicli, 
ItwitlistandiDg what the de^dl can do, the souls of 

people are gracious still." This was the promise 
.lade to Paul, when he thrice prayed for the thorn 
I he removed from his flesh, " My grace is sufficient 

yo^^''_and this gi'ace was not given to Paul 
|iily, but it is given to every hvmable cross-bearing 
lUower of the Lord Jesus. 

I « When through the deep waters I cause thee to go, 

The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o'erflow ; 

Tor I will stand by thee thy troubles to bless, 

And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress. 

- Y7hen through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie, 
/ Fy '^race all-sufficient shall be thy supply, 
; The flames shall not hurt thee-I only aesign ^ 

Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine." 

^5o,*as tlie devil undertook to quench that flame 
)f angelic fire that was burning on the altar of my 
leart^ Christ poured in the oil of his grace : 

Then my soul mounted higher 
In a chariot of fire, 
Nor did envy Elijah his seat." 

j'Severtheless, fearing that I might not walk, or 
'-'talk, or shout according to the prescribed notions of 
some of the Pharisees or lukewarm brethren, I re- 
N quested to be led into the preachers' tent about one 
[ o'clock in the morning, when I thought I mignt 
" settle down into a clear sunshine of joy and peace. 
^ AH the preachers had left the tent but old father 
Monroe, a superannuated preacher, who had also re- 



184 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THS 



tired from that throng that were too full of heavenM 
rapture to sleep. Ilere I lay down, but not tol 
sleep. I was hke the inflated balloon, which, tieJ 

to the earth by a single cord till the aeronaut mounta 
his car and cuts the cord, then ascends heavenward* 
far above all subiimary things ; so was my soul 
filled v/ith,the heavenly atmosphere of God's love, 
and liad the silken thread then been severed, would ' 
have soared away and found an abundant entrance 
into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord Jesus 
Christ. Soon after I had lain down brother Young 
came, filled vvith the Spirit to overflowing, and lay 
down with me. This was like putting tAvo fire- 
brands together. Brother Young was a sober, 
steady and sedate preacher. AVe had both retired 
for the same object — to keep from shouting aloud 
to the praise of God — but in this we vrere overruled, 
and I do not know that I was ever so mechanically 
shaken at any other time, although by unseen 
hands, as I was then for about three minutes, so 
that the row of bunks fell down. The shaking, I 
think, I could not have helped had it been to save 
my life. In this state of the case, as we leaped from 
the bunk, old father Monroe being disconcerted by 
his fall, cried out, ''Turn them out!" which was, 
however, pronounced in love, his only desire being 
that we might have more room to give vent to the 
overflowings of the Spirit; yet the devil took advan- 
tago of it, and began to throw cold water, suggest- 
ing U^mQ that in all the revellings of my frolicksome 



IIFE OF G. Vr. HENRY. 



185 



life I was never ordered out of doors before, and 
"Turn Mm out !" was continually sounding in my 
ears as gratingly as possible, till I left tbe camp- 
ground, which I did the next morning at nine 
o'clock. 

But, thank God, the oil of his grace was suffi- 
cient to keep the fire burning ; and, blessed be his 
name, the devil has never been able to quench 
that hallowed flame which glows in my heart, even 
nov,^, while I dictate to the writer the scenes of that 
happy night. 

I beg pardon of the reader (if pardon be needed) 
for keeping him so long at this camp-meeting. 
Perhaps my feehngs are something like Peter's 
when on the mount of transfiguration, when our 
Saviour removed the veil of his human nature for a 
moment and showed his disciples that glory that 
shall hereafter be revealed to those that die in the 
Lord : Peter wanted to build there three tabernacles, 
for he said it was good for him to be there. But 
it was not for Peter to remain always on the mount, 
nor was it for your author always to remain at the 
camp-meeting. So we will bid our brethren and 
si',ter£ farewell — nio-ht finds us at home again. 



186 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN TirS 



CHAPTER XI. 

A v tills time there Tvas another camp-meeting held 
^■ithin about two miles and a half of home, by a se ct 
called the ''United Brethren in Christ." They are 
quite numerous in Pennsylvania and Chio : they are 
called by some the " Dutch Methodists — they are 
generally an humble, devoted, and pious people. 
The next morning after breatfast I moved towards 
that encampment, and, like the prophet, I felt "the 
fire shut up in my bones," and it took but a gentle 
breeze from Canaan to fan it into a flame. This 
v>'as a morning of the love-feast ; and long before I 
reached the camp-ground the heavenly music fell 
upon my ear, and I longed to be there. I hastened 
my horse and was soon on the .outside of the camp. 
It seemed to me my boy was an unusual length of 
time in fastening the horse, while I could, seemingly, 
like blind Bartimeus, or the lame man that was 
healed, have leaped and praised the Lord. . Btit I 
soon found an entrance into the sheepfold, and be- 
gan to 

tell to sinners round 

What a dear Saviour I had found." 

I was so filled with holy rapture, and had so much 
to tell of the goodness of God, that I should proba- 
bly have taken up nearly all the time that was al- 
lotted for the love-feast, had not one of the preach- 
erF/» iu the kindest manner, requested me t/3 give 



LIFE OF G, W. HENRY. 



way. for other witnesses. The devil again began to 
thro"7sr cold water, by telling me I had degraded my- 
self and my connexions — that I talked very simple 
for a man of my age and pretensions. I have no 
doubt but that what I said sounded foolish to the 
wise of this world, for I was a mere babe in Christ. 
Before going to the meeting I had resolved in my 
own mind to be rather reserved, it not being my 
own Church ; but that was all forgotten at the first 
joyful sound borne on the wings of the morning to 
my ears from the camp. Falhng in again with the 
suggestions of his Satanic majesty, who professed 
such a guardian care for the Church, and especially 
for one of the lambs of the flock that had so lately 
deserted fr'om his dark dominions, I was determined 
to take my seat during the rest of the exercises out 
in the congi-egation, and be decent, trusting to the 
charity of my brethren and friends to overlook what 
had passed. In the afternoon the horn sounded for 
preaching, and I seated myself back in the congre- 
gation ; but, as the preacher began to hold up the 
blessed Jesus to my view, salvation's well begaTi to 
spring up in my soul. I began to feel like shoutinr]^ 
glory, and more like leaping for joy, than sittinir 
orderly on my bench. It came in floods, I could 
not contain f I therefore o:ot down on m.v knees 
and stopped my mouth as much as possible vnth 
my handkerchief till I began to feel distressed in 
body and in mind, so that I vras qmte exhausted. 
T^'hen the meetiDg broke u[. I v. -^- lAid on the bench 



188 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



"vyitli the same convulsions and cramps that I had 
the night before I was converted, and was taken 
home in a very different state of feehng from what 
I entered upon the camp-gTOund on that morning. 
I was sensible I had grieved the Spirit, and had 
yielded to the temptations of the devil. But I found 
relief that night at the throne of grace, where I 
promised God I would ever praise him according to 
the dictation of his Holy Spirit. * 
I now had to leave the camp of Israel to deal ' 
with a cold-hearted world, vrhere God is not known, ' 
and where money is prized higher than heaven. I : 
have already informed the reader of the immense 
amount of unsettled business I had with various 
corporations in different States. Here I learned s 
lesson that convinced me of the total depravity of 
the human heart ; for in all my life I never had 
more black-hearted villany practised on me thai 
here, in my poverty, and infirmities, while trying tc 'I 
settle up my business ; the most unmanly advan 
ledges vrere taken of me, as well by individuals as b] j 
corporations, which, most emphatically, " have n( I 
souls." 

" Man's inhumauity to miu 
• Makes countless niiUions mourn." 

Still, iimidst all these trials I foimd many greei 
spots in the desert. 0, what a blessed gospel, tha 
sheds its heavenly dew on every branch that abidet, 
in the true vine ! 



LIFH OF G. W. HENRY. 



189 



" Thoiigli troubles assail U5, 

And dangers affright, 
Though friends should all fail us, 
And foes all unite, 
Tet one thing secures us, Tvhatever betide, 
The promise assures us, The Lord will provide." 

In all tlie cbangeful and trying affairs of life, (and 
it is said that these afflictions shall work out for ns 
a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory,) 
we have the full assurances of his promise to comfort 
lis ; and what is better, we may have his Spirit to 
cheer us and make us rejoice in enduring our trials; 
and when God's children are filled with his love, 
they will soon find each other out without much 
formality of introduction. They all drink from the 
same fountain — they should always carry with them 
the visible marks of the Lord Jesus. I once heard 
a story of two converted heathen, of different nations, 
who had been taught the way of salvation in differ- 
ent languages. They happened to meet vdiWe 
travelHng with caravans over a desert, aud, while 
"watering their camels, they discovered in each other 
some of these visible marks of Chiistian brother- 
hood; but the gTeat difficulty was to commr.nicate 
each other s ideas, as they did not understand each 
other's language. They both knelt on the sand, in 
the attitude of imploring the throne of grac^, when, 
it recuriing to one of them that his missionary had 
told him that the word hallelujah was ti'ansiii^ttv-i 
'in every language alike, he shouted " Hallelujah P 
which was responded by his converted bsHhe^-, hko 

1 



190 TRIALL AND TRIUMPHS W THE 



an echo ; and tlie other, remembering that his mis* 
sionary had told him that the word amen was trans- 
mitted ahke in all languages, exclaimed, " Amen I'* 
"Amen !" rejoined the other — and thus they shouted 
" Hallelujah " and " Amen," to the praise of Him who 
shall have " the heathen for his inheritance, and the 
uttermost parts of the earth for a possession." 

O, my brethren, open your eyes, and look forward 
to that day to which Enoch, the first of all the 
prophets, and John, the last of all the apostles, 
direct our faith; when the great Shepherd shall 
gather together, in one fold, some of all nations and 
of all ages : and then shall all speak one language, 
and sino- the sono- of Moses and the Lamb. 

" Sweet glories rnsli upon my sight, 

And cliarm my wondering eyes ; 
The regions of immortal light, 

The beauties of the skies ! | 

*' All hail ! ye fair celestial shores, J 
Ye lands of endless day ; ? 

Swift on my view yom* prospect pours, 
And drives my griefs away. 

" Short is the passage — short the space 
Between my home and me ; ^ 

There ! there behold the radiant place- 
How near the mansions be ! 

" Immortal wonders ! boundless things 

In those dear worlds appear ! 
Prepare me, Lord, to stretch my wiugs^ i 

And iu those glories share." 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



191 



CHAPTER XII. 

My father-in-law being at this time brought upon 
his bed of death, prevented our contemplated visit 
to the north; and my wife and I remained with 
ji him during a painfal sickness, until the 26th of 
December, which day closed his earthly career, he 
being about seventy years of age. Long shall I re- 
member that solemn and impressive scene when the 
family were weeping around his death-couch, al- 
though I could not see. The death-rattle — the faint 
flickering of the expiring breath — the fluttering of 
the spirit to free itself from its earthly entangle- 
ments, half desirous, half reluctant to leave its dilap- 
idated tenement of clay and soar away to its native 
skies — the impressions which these made can never 
be effaced from my memory. But ■ 

"Why start at Death ? vrhere is he ? Death arrived 
Is past ; not come, or gone, he's never here, 
Ere hope, sensation fails ; black-boding man 
Receives, not suffers. Death's tremendous blow. 
The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave ; 
The deep damp vault, the darkness and the Avorm ; 
These are the bugbears of a -winter's eve, 
The terrors of the living, not the dead. 
Imagination's fool, and error's wretch, 
Man makes a death which nature never made ; 
Then on the point of his own fancy felis, 
And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one." 

And to continue Dr. Young's heaven-inspired re- 
flections on this subject, I beg leave to add, and 
would iiiipK^s it on my reader's maid, that — 



192 



TMALS AKD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



" Life makes tlie soul dependent on the dust ; 
Death gives her wings to mount ahove the spheres. 
Thro' chinks, styled organs, dim life peeps at liglit ; 
Death bursts th' involving cloud, and all ia daj; 
All eye, all ear, the disembodied power. 
Death has feign'd evils nature shall not feel ; 
Life, ills substantial, wisdom cannot shun. 
Is not the mighty mind, that son of heaven, 
By tyrant Life dethroned, i]nprison'd, pain'd ? 
By Death enlarged, ennobled, deified? 
Death but entombs the body. Life the soul. 

" * Is Death then guiltless ? how he marks his way 
With dreadful waste of what deserves to shine I 
Art, genius, fortune, elevated power ; 
With various lustres these light up the world, 
Which Death puts out and darkens human race.' 

"I grant, Lorenzo, this indictment just; 
The sage, peer, potentate, king, conqueror ! 
Death humbles these ; more barbarous Life the man 
Life is the triumph of our mould'ring clay ; 
Death, of the spirit infinite, divine ! 
Death has no dread but what frail Life imparts : 
Nor Life true joy but what kind Death improves. 
No bliss to boast, till Death can give 
Far greater. Life's a debtor to the grave ; 
Dark lattice ! letting in eternal day ! 

" Lorenzo, blush at fondness for a life 
Which sends celestial souls on errands vile, 
To cater for the sense, and ser\e at boards 
Where every ranger of the wilds, perhaps 
Each reptile, justly claims our upper-hand. 
Luxurious feasts ! a soul, a soul immortal, 
In all the dainties of a brute bemired ! 
Lorenzo, blush at terror for a death 
MTiich gives thee to repose in festive bowers, 
Where nectar sparkle, angels minister, 
And more than angels share, and raise, and crown 
And eternize the birth, bloom, bursts of bliss. 
What need I more? Death ! the palm is thine. 



XIFE OF G. VT. HENRY. 



193 



" Then welcome, Deatli ! tliy dreaded harbingers, 
Age and disease : Disease, though long my guest, 
That plucks my nerves, those tender strings of life ; 
Which, pluck'd a little more, will toll the bell 
That calls my few friends to my funeral ; 
Where feeble Nature drops, perhaps, a tear, 
While Reason and Eeligion, better taught. 
Congratulate the dead, and crown his tomb 
With wreath triumphant. Death is victory ; 
It binds in chains the raging ills of life: 
Lust and Ambition, Wrath and Avarice, 
Dragged at his chariot- wheel, applaud his power. 
That ills corrosive, cares importunate. 
Are not immortal too, Deatli, is thine. 
Our da3i of dissolution ! — na,rae it right, 
'T is our great pay-day ! 't is our harvest, rich 
And ripe. VrTiat though the sickle, sometimes keen, 
tTust scars us as we reap the golden gi'ain ? 
More than thy balm, Gilead ! heals the wound. 
Birth's feeble cry, and Death's deep dismal groan, 
Are slender tributes low-tax'd Nature pays 
For mighty- gain; the gain of each a life! 
But ! the last the former so transcends. 
Life dies compared ; Life lives beyond the gi'ave. 

"And feel I, Death, no joy from thought of thee? 
Death, the great counsellor, who man inspires 
With every noble thought and fairer deed ! 
Death, the deliverer, who rescues man ! 
Death, the rewarder, who the rescued crowns ! 
Death, that absolves my birth, a curse without it ! 
Kieh Death, that realizes all my cares. 
Toils, virtues, hopes ; without a chimera ! 
Death, of all pain the period, not of joy ; 
Joy's source and subject still subsist unhurt ; 
One in my soul, and one in her great sire. 
Though the four winds were warring for my dust, 
les, and from winds and waves, and central night, 
Though prison'd there, my dust too I reclaim, 
(To dust when drop proud nature's proudest spheres,) 
13 



/ 



i94 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



And live entire, Beatli is the crown of life^ 
Were doatli denied, poor man would live in vain : 
Were deatli denied, to live would not he life : 
Were deatli denied, e'en fools would wish to die. 
Death wounds to -^ure ; -wd fall, we rise, we reign ! 
Spring from our fetters, fasten in the skies, 
Where hlooming Eden withers in our sight ; 
Death gives us more than was in Eden lost, 
This king of terrors is the prince of peace. 
When shall I die to vanity, pain, death? 
When shall I die ? — when shall I live forever ?" 

Tlie iiiHit of rav father-in-law's death T bowed for 
the first time at the family-altar, which, by the help 
of the Lord, has ever since been kept np within my 
household, when at all practicable. Here followed 
some trials and temptations of a worldly nature, 
which I now see I was not able to bear with that 
Christian fortitude and meekness that became a 
child of grace. When I was a child, says the 
apostle, I acted as a child. I had not grace " that 
beareth all things, and endurcth all thing*s but, 
thanks be to God, he never has laid upon me any 
temptation but what he gave grace to deliver me, 
and has thus far delivered me out of them all. 

The reader will recollect that I said the ^rsi 
prayer I offered up after my conversion was that 
my wife might speedily be brought into the ark of 
safety. I believe she soon (as she says herself ) re- 
solved to get religion, but intended to obtain it in 
the most genteel iimnner, and make no noise about 
it. Soon after tlie death of her father, she con- 
dc£cer*dcd (slie thought it a condescension) to go 



1 LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 19^ 

I ■ 

class-meeting ^ith me. The next Sabbath she 
;is still more vrilling to go, and began to think, by 
Sis time, that it was not the worst place in the 
lorld. Soon after, there was a protracted meeting 
, Greencastle, and she was persuaded to kneel at 
|le mourners' bench ; but it vras done with a world 
" precision, her face concealed by her handkerchief, 
^ if very much ashamed of Avhat she was doing, 
liile.not so much as a whisper of prayer could be 
«eard to escape her lips. This ceremony she per- 
l'*rmed several times, claiming pardon foi' her sins 
p'f she had any,) and religion because she had con- 
boscended to perform those so very humiliating cer- 
!:4nonies. The protracted meeting being brought to 
close, she joined the Methodist Church on proba- 
tion, went to class-meeting regularly, had a well-set 
4)eech made up, which was delivered in as genteel a 
manner as need be. I was now more troubled 
i bout her soul than ever. There was a good old 
;;jreacher that used to say that the dedl had two 
j-radles which he rocked his children to sleep in — 
liie big cradle was the world, and his httle one the 
Church, while he sung the lullaby of Peace, peace," 
A'hen God has. not spoken peace. I feared this was 
aer condition, and frequently told her she had not 
3ne spark of religion, which was rather offensive to 
her, for I doubt not she honestly thought she had 
rehgion ; and she would reply that she thought she 
bad ^s much as I ; and truly, if religion consisted 
of outward forms and ceremonies, she had. I pray- 



196 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



ed and wrestled with God to coii\act her of her 
sins, and bring her out of that horrid pit of cold 
formahty. I seemed to have almost if not quite as 
much anxiety for the salvation of her soul as mj 
own. In this dangerous position she remained | 
about six months. ^ 
I Imew the very same Saviour yet lived who 
heard the prayer of the importunate Canaanitish 
woman, who plead in behalf of her unregenerated j 
daughter, and that he lived to answer prayer. l] 
discovered that she bes'an to, feel the stino- of an 
awakened conscience ; the strong man that had kept 
his place in peace was now being bound by the 
hand of Omnipotence. She was now willing to 
bow the knee and cry aloud for mercy ; she felt that 
she was a great sinner, and needed a Saviour ; she 
then sought him with her whole heart, and, glory be 
to God, she found him to the joy and comfort of 
her soul, when shouts of glory, that filled the old 
church, told to all around that she had learned the 
new song; there was joy on earth, and joy in 
heaven, for a sinner was converted. We cannot say 
that we have walked like Zachariah and Elizabeth, 
blameless in all the ordinances of the Lord, but we 
have been happy in the love, and have been trying 
continually to grow in grace and in the knowledge 
of God. Previous to her conversion, she would 
return home from class-meeting much amused at 
having heard the brethren talk of their many trials 
and sore temptations, to which she was a stranger. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



197 



This was to my mind one strong evidence that she 
was unconverted ; lor, Thej that hve godly in 
Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution." 

I have been thus particular in writing this por- 
tion of the experience of my wife, which I learned 
not only from observation but also from her own 
mouth, that the reader may profit by it. Perhaps: 
lie may already be rocked to sleep in one or the 
other of these cradles of carnal security ; if so, I pray 
God to awaken him from this dangerous lethargy. 
0, how disappointed will that soul be that shall be 
thrust down to hell, whose hopes were as high as 
heaven ! It is not all that say, Lord, Lord, that 
shall enter into the kingdom, but they only that do 
the will of my Father which is in heaven. " Many 
will say unto me in that day. Lord, Lord, have we 
not professed in thy name, and in thy name cast 
out devils, and in - thy name done many wonderful 
works ; then Vvill I profess unto them, I never knew 
}'ou ; depart from me, ye that work iniquity." Dear 
reader, remember that these are the words of the 
blessed Saviour, and they shall stand v/hen this 
world is no more. He refers to that great day 
when the righteous shall be separated from the 
wicked, as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the 
goats. Shall you or I hear that terrible sentence 
from the Judge, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into 
everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his 
angels ?" Dear reader, permit' me to exhort you to 
pause — reflect— think on these words — remember 



198 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN TH3 



they are from the mouth of God ; let me also vrarn 
you against presuming ever to hear " Come, thou 
blessed of my Father," spoken to you in that great 
day, without solemn repentance before God for your 
sins, and an entire change of heart unto holiness 
before you go down to your grave. An unholy 
soul would be a fearful intruder among the blood- 
washed assembly. I care not how orthodox your 
opinions, or what the name of your Church ; there 
shall in no wise enter into that city anything that 
defileth, or worketh abomination, or maketh a lie; 
but they that are written in the Lamb's book of 
life, and they only shall be there. 

My wife being now safely in the kingdom of 
grace, I held up in the arms of faith a young 
girl, an orphan, whom Providence had brought into 
my family, illiterate and poor; but, thank God, if 
there are promises more specially belonging to one 
dass of mortals than another, it is to the poor, the 
maimed, the halt, and the blind ; they may in 
Christ a hearty welcome find. I endeavoured to 
point out to her the way of salvation as plainly as 
jDOSsible, telling her that Christ was an especial 
guardian to the orphan. In about six months she 
was converted, after a severe struggle of conviction. 
Soon after, as her monrniiig was turned into joy, 
and 1 heard her si) out Glory to God !" these words 
of Scripture, which heretofore had been a mystery 
to me, were now made plain ; when our Saviour 
turned his eyes towards heaven, he said, Father, 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



199 



I thank tliee that these things are not committed to 
the wise and prudent, but they are revealed unto 
babes." Yes, if the gospel had been confided to 
a few of 4ie literary of this world, the poor un- 
taught orphan w^ould very hkely never know the 
way of life ; but, thank God, the sage, the philoso- 
pher, and the prince, are here placed on a level witli 
the little child; "Except ye become as little chil- 
dren ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven." 
My family were now all in the ark of safety — my 
little Fanny w^s in heaven — the rcst, through sov- 
ereign grace, prepared to follow. Thank God for 
his mercy and his truth I 

"Religion! thou the soul of happiness. 
And groaning Calvary, of thee, there shine 
The noblest truths ; there strongest motives sting ; 
There sacred violence assaults the soul ; 
There nothing hut compulsion is forborne. 
Can love allure us ? or can terror awe ? 
He weeps ! — the falling drop puts out the sun. 
He sighs! — the sigh earth's deep foundation shakes,^ 
If in his love so terrible, what then 
His wrath inflamed? his tenderness on fire? 
Like soft, smooth oil, out-blazing other fires? 
Can prayers, can praise avert it ? Thou, my all ! 
My theme ! my inspiration ! and my crown ! 
My strength in age ! my rise in lo w estate ! 
My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth! my world ! 
My light in darkness ! and my life in death I 
My boast through time ! bliss through eternity I 
Eternity, too short to speak thy praise, 
Or fathom thy profound of love to man I 
To man of mon the meanest, even to me ; 
My sacrifice ! my God 1— what things are these !" 



200 TRIALS AJ^D TRIUMPHS IN THE 



CHAPTER XIIL \ 

It was in the fall of 1843 that we made our con- 
templated trip to the North. Here I met my dear 
mother for the first time after losing my temporal 
vision and receiving spiritual sight ; and a happier 
embrace had never a mother and a son. Like 
Simeon of old she might have said, " I^ow, Lord, let 
thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen 
thy salvation," " for my son was dead and is alive 
ao'ain — was lost and is found." AYho can fathom 
a mother's love for her child — a love spontaneous, 
boundless, divine ! 

After kilhng the fatted calf and making merry 
with my brethren and sisters of this country for a ; 
while, we prepared to return to the South. About ? 
this time I had a very agreeable dream, Avhieh I will 
venture to relate, with no other apology to the un- 
believing reader who may be disposed to turn up 
his philosophic nose at the mention of a dream, 
than, that it is simply a dream, signifying something 
or nothing, and he is at liberty to attach as much 
(and no more) significance to it as he may feel dis- 
posed ; barely reminding him at the same time of 
the dreams and visions so frequently spoken of in 
the Bible. God often visited the patriarchs of old 
in dreams and \'isions of the night ; and man is tho 
same now as then, and God is unchangeable. I 
dreamed I vras in the Masonic Hall, in th^ village 



I 

'i ♦ 

i - 

1 Lll'E OF G. W. HEKRT. 201 

!l 

)f Frankfort, where the Methodists hold their meet- 
ings. I thought I vras engaged in a httle prayer- 
jircle. I looked out-doors and beheld a general 
't^reck of matter; the Hall, with other things, de- 
.TLoiished about me. I thous^ht I beo-an to rise, 
oeing clothed in a long white robe ; and as I gradu- 
ally ascended my soul became full of glory, and I 
r^houted aloud, which awakened my wife. I was at 
this time, as it appeared to me, about one hundred 
feet above the earth., atill ascending, when she broke 
ithe gentle spell that bound me, and realized to rae 
that I w^as still an inhabitant of the earth. Altliough 
at turned out to be a dream, I do not know that 
I was ever much happier in my life than when 
jl awoke. You will recollect the dreams I had 
while striving to enter into the kingdom of grace, 
w^hich I have related to you. I did not dream my- 
self into the kingdom — I was wide awake and 
clothed in my right mind when I entered ; so I ex- 
^ pect to be in the morning of the resurrection, when 
1 the Lord himself shall descend from heaven ^\ith a 
■ shout, and w4th the sound of the trump and the 
voice of the archangel, when he shall come to gather 
up his jewels, when he shall bring up his saints 
( from the beds of dust and darknesa, then shall the 
ransomed of the Lord drop their death-shrouds, and 
rise in the image of their Saviour, shouting glory ! 
as they are caught up to meet him in the air — a 
bright army that will not be a dream, but a sublime 
and glorious reality. 



202 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



This dream was about the time that much was 
said about the second coming of Christ, which, no 
doubt, was the occasion of my dream. Many virgins 
arose that year and trimmed their lamps, and were 
prepared at midnight, at cock-crowing, or at noon- 
day, to go forth with joy to meet their Lord. But, 
alas ! how changed are the times, even in the short 
space of three years. Where thr."!"»sands were then 
saying, Come, Lord Jesus, cone quiclilv," we now - 
hoar, by word or action, ''The Lord de!jyeth his 
comiijg.-' At the time when Milleii^-in, a£. i.; was 
called, was all the rage, I neither believed uor dis- 
believed Mr. Miller's theory, nor troubled myself 
much about it ; but I will say it was a means of my 
preparing more oil for my journey, and of triDimiiig 
my lamp. I love to dwell on the doctrine of the 
resurrection. Very probably the first thing I shall 
ever see will be my Lord coming in the clouds in 
great glory, and all his holy angels "with him. The 
promise is, that every eye shall see him. He is the 
very same Physician that opened the eyes of bhnd 
]>artimeiis, and caused him to shout and leap for 
joy. If the opening of the eyes of the blind on this 
vain and transitory world should cause so much 
joy, how infinitely more rapturous shall be that 
glorified body that shall be permitted to gaze on 
the Redeemer in his native glory, with all the 
lionours of heaven upon liim ! Then to turn and 
gaze upon that blood-washed throng of unnumbered 
millions, how glorious the scene I There shall be 



lift of a. W. HE>s"Rt. 



203 



tio night there^ for the Lord God shall give them 
light, and they shall reign forever and ever. Dear 
reader, by the grace of God, even at this moment, 
as for the last six months past, I can in my heart 
respond to the last words in the Bible, "Amen, 
even so, come Lord Jesus blessed is that servant 
that is found watchinor when his Lord cometh. O 
Lord, arouse to-day the sleeping, foolish virgins. 

" Sinner, art tliou still secure ? 

Wilt thou still refuse to pray ? 
Can thy heart or hands endure 

In the Lord's avenging day ? 

*' See, his mighty arm is bared ! 

Awful terrors clothe his brow ! 
For his judgment stand prepared, 

Thou must either break or bow. 

At his presence Nature shakes ; 
Earth, affrighted, hastes to flee ; 
Solid mountains melt like wax ; 
What will then become of thee ? 

*' AVho his advent may abide ? 

You that glory in your shame, 
Will you find a place to hide 

When the world is wrapp'd in flame ? 

*' Lord, prepare us by thy grace ! 

Soon we must resign our breath, 
And our souls be called to pass 

Through the iron gates of death. 

*' Let us now our day improve. 

Listen to the gospel voice ; 
Seek the things that are above ; 

Scorn the world's pretended joya.*' 



204 TRIALS AND TRItJMPHS THE 

We were now ready to return to the South, by 
tlie way of New- York and Philadelphia. The 
reader has already been informed of my property, as 
to this world's goods. I could, with simple honesty, 
have said, in the language of Shakspeare, "He that 
steals my purse, steals trash and, as it is a part of 
my creed that faith and works should go together 
in temporal as well as spiritual affairs, I could not 
with confidence look up to God and ask him to feed 
and clothe my little family without an effort on my 
part to obtain a livelihood for them. I had resolved 
in my own mind to learn to make brushes, in spite 
of the opposition of many of my friends, who did 
not believe I could ever learn the art; but my 
courage, which hitherto had been most valiant 
when at the foot of the hill, was not in the least 
abated by temporal blindness. The thoughts of 
being dependent on the cold charities of a selfish 
world I was unable to endure. Consequently I re- 
mained one day with my family, in Philadelphia, 
and went to the Blind Institute of that city, and re- 
quested some instruction in the art of brush-making, 
telling them I could not remain more than one day 
to learn the trade, in consequence of the expenses of 
keeping my family there. They replied that they 
would, with pleasure, give me all the instruction 
they could in that time, but that it generally took 
three years to become accomplished in that trade. 
T soon found myself at the bench trying to make a 
coarse b»'ush. Here was a, trial of faith and patience. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



205 



j| 1 worked about seven hours and made two coarse 
; brushes. I bought tools and a lot of stock, and 
■ packed them up. I was full of hope, promising 
myself the greatest success in the business of brush - 
making. But I must tell you something of this 
benevolent institution, 
(j It hes in the upper part of the city, near Fair- 
I mount Water-works. It is a large, beautiful, and 
well-arranged edifice, with a spacious park and 
gravel-walks, where the blind promenade. It has 
generally from eighty to a hundred blind students, 
who there acquire a knowledge of the rudiments of 
English literature, and there learn to play on almost 
every kind of musical instrument, by means of em- 
bossed notes, which they read with their fingers, by 
the sense of feeling. The male pupils, when out of 
school, are occupied in making brushes, weaving, 
making boots and shoes, &c. The females are en- 
gaged at making variegated bead-work of every 
; kind. It happened to be the night of their annual 
I lyceum that I was there. It w^as not to be public, 
but I was invited to stay. A while before sundown, 
several of the graduates of that and of other like in- 
stitutions came in from their various occupations in 
the city, in order to participate in the entertain- 
ments. From the time tea was over till they met 
in the assembly-room, their attention was occupied 
i in social conversation on the general topics of the 
j day, in promenading, music, singing, reading, &c. ; 
I all seeming to be as familiar with things foreign and 



206 TRIALS A^D TRIUMPHS IK THE 

domestic as if enjoying their organs of vision. At 
the hour appointed for the meeting of the lyceum 
there were about one hundred bhnd persons seated 
in the assembly-room. I believe every person in 
the room was blind, and I do not know whether 
there was any light in the room or not. Their 
president called the meeting to order, when the 
secretary read the proceedings of the last former 
meeting. They then considered and passed upon 
some resolutions, all done in the most regular parlia- 
mentary order. An address was delivered by Mr. 
Berry, a graduate of that institution, which was 
very appropriate, and spoken in an elegant manner ; 
after which I made some remarks, with a heart 
overflowing with gratitude at seeing, or rather per- 
ceiving, so many of my blind companions made so 
comfortable, and furnished with such excellent facili- 
ties for cultivating their minds, and for becoming 
masters of the useful arts, by which to procure a 
livelihood. I think a majority of them had em- 
braced religion. As I was about to leave, they 
gathered around me to bid me farewell, Avith as 
much sympathy and cordial fellow-feeling as could 
be manifested by a band of brothers and sisters, who 
were about to give the parting hand to one of their 
own number. All were there comparatively happy ; 
but, alas ! not one knew what lay in his jDathway to 
the lonesome gTave — how many sunless days and 
starless nights. Who can sympathize with the blind 
but the blind ? Who can properly valuo the facili- 



LIFE OF G. IIENRT. SOY 

ties wticli God bestows till deprived of tliem? 
"Who can duly estimate tlie value of time but he to 
whom time is no more ? 

On all important time, tlirougli every age, 
Tho' much, and warm, the wise have urged, the man 
Is yet unborn who duly weighs an hour. 
* I 've lost a day ' — the prince who nohly cried, 
Had been an emperor without his crown : 
Of Rome ? say, rather lord of human race ! 
He spoke as if deputed by mankind. 
So should all speak : so reason speaks in all : 
From the soft whispers of that God in man, 
Why fly to folly, why to frenzy fly. 
For rescue from the blessings we possess ? 
Time, the supreme ! — Time is eternity ; 
Pregnant with all eternity can give ; 
Pregnant with all that makes archangels smile ; 
Who crushes time, he crushes in the birth 
A power ethereal, only not adored." 

Think of this, ye rich worldlings, who are rob- 
binor Grod of his tithes and offerino-s. You will never 
gather together enough of this world's goods to buy 
an hour, or purchase a wedding-garment for the 
supper of the Lamb. May the Lord give you wis- 
dom to lay up treasures in heaven, by properly im- 
proving on the gifts- which God has bestowed, that 
when earth, with all its specious wealth, shall have 
passed away, you may have an inheritance with the 
saints in light. 

At twelve o'clock that night I was seated in the 
cars, for Greencastle, with my little family and my 
apparatus and stock for brush-making, and that 
night WQ were welcomed home by the kindly greet- 



208 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IK THE 



ing of many good neighbours, about one hundred 
and sixty miles from Philadelphia, and just one mile 
from Greencastle village, Franklin County. 

You remember we have just returned from the 
North. After adjusting our little household affairs 
we resumed housekeeping. I fitted me up a brush- 
making bench, and went to work at my new trade, 
fully testing my faith, courage, and patience. In a 
few weeks I could turn out a brush elegant enough 
to dust the pontifical cloak of his holiness the Pope. 
I can now make twenty-five brushes in less time 
and with much less trouble than it took to make 
my first two at the Blind Institute ; so that by brush- 
making and broom-making, through the blessing of 
a kind Providence, I have been able to keep my 
little barrel and cruse from being entirely empty, 
although I have seldom had beforehand more than 
five dollars worth of provisions at a time. But then, 
you know we are required to ask, day by day, for 
our daily bread. Yet I am often rebuked for my 
distrust of Providence by these words of our Saviour, 
" 0, ye of little faith !" There is one text of Scrip- 
ture to be found in Isaiah xlii, 16, which I claim as 
peculiarly my own, both as regards temporal and 
spiritual things, for I have often realized, in both 
these, the precious promises which it contains: "I 
will bring the blind by a way that they knew not ; 
I will lead them in paths that they have not known ; 
I will make darkness fight before them, and crooked 
things straight; these things will I do unto them, 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



200 



and not forsake them." Yes, glory to his holy name ! 
he will never forsake them that love him. 

" E'en down to old age my people shall prove 
My sovereign, eternal, micliangeable love ; 
^nd then, when gray hairs shall their temples adorn, 
Like lambs they shall still in my bosom be borne. 

*' The soul that on Jesus doth lean for repose, 

I will not, I will not desert to his foes ; 

That soul, though all hell should endeavour to shake, 

I'll never — ^no never — no never forsake." 

I have proved the Lord thus far, and found him 
as good as his word ; and I am willing to trust ali 
things in his hands for all future time. 0, Lord, 
help me to fight a good fight and to keep the faith, that 
I may exclaim, even in death, like pious Ed^Vards, 
" Trust the Lord !" " When thy heart and flesh fail 
thee I will be thy portion, saith the Lord of hosts." 
Yea, w^e may trust him still farther ; he has promised 
to w^atch over our dust until the morning of the resur- 
rection. 

Roll on, roll on, ye wheels of time, 
And give the joyful day." 

"No difference whether we fall on the land or the 
sea ; still, like the family of Abraham, w^e like to be 
buried with our fathers and friends. I took up the 
remains of my little daughter from the lonesome 
hills of Virginia, and bore them, as the sons of Jacob 
bore their brother Joseph, to the land of her fathers, 
and laid her in the family burying-ground in Penn- 
sylvania. 

"There sweet be her rest, till He bid her arise, 
To hail him in triumph descending the skies." 
14 



210 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Although religion, or ratlier tlie hankering and 
thirsting after it, in many places and among most 
denominations of Christians is lanofuishi-o^, yet I 
think, in all meekness and humility, and, notwith- 
standing my .waywardness, through the mercy of 
God I have constantly gi'own in grace and in the 
• knowledge of God : every month and year has been 
found better than its predecessor, and my faith has 
never been stronger nor my prospect brighter for 
the promised land thaji at present, while dictating 
this little narrative. Says the apostle, " TS^hen I 
was a child I spoke as a child, I understood as a 
child, I thought as a child ; but when I became a 
man I put away childish things." As earthly parents 
pass over many imperfections and follies in the httle 
child which they would by no means tolerate in 
one of mature age and judgment, so my Heavenly 
Father has borne with numerous of my imperfections 
and blessed me abundantl}', which he would not by 
any means do now that I have received more light 
and knowledge. When I entered into the spiritual 
kingdom I carried with me, like Peter, many errors 
and prejudices of earlier life, which I have reason 
to thank God are now far removed through the in- 
strumentality of holy preaching which was con" 
firmed by the word of revelation. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



211 



While doing the work of the Gentiles I occasion- 
ally heard enforced the doctnne of perfect lore, 
Christian perfection, entire sanctification, and holi- 
ness of heart. These were rather chimerical and 
extravagant doctrines to me, and I ventured to 
chime with others in ridiculing such ideas ; with all 
my cherished respect for religion I did not believe 
that such a state of grace was attainable by mor- 
tals in this world. I therefore, for the first year after 
my conversion, like too many professors of relig- 
ion, instead of trying how holy and how close 
with God it was possible for me to walk, it was 
probably a question in my mind how much sin the 
Lord would countenance in his professed disciples. 
I was decidedly a latitudinarian in my construction 
of the requirements of Scripture. Now, if a man 
has not faith to believe a certain object attainable, 
he will be very unlikely to put forth an adequate 
eftbrt to possess it. But God has 2^i'<>i^^ised to 
make darkness lio-ht before us, and crooked thino-s 
staight ; and, blessed be his holy name, he has thus 
far on my pilgrimage redeemed his promises to the 
spirit and letter — yea, far exceeding my expectation, 

1 had now been coasting for about a year along 
the shores of justification, amidst rocks and sand- 
bars. I had no desire to bury my talent in the 
earth, neither did I feel it indispensably necessary 
to put it out to usury, supposing, rather, that the 
Lord would be satisfied if I should return to him 
when he came to reckon with me the talent he had 



i 

! 

212 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

bestowed. But in his abundant mercy he winked 
at this ignorance, until I was taught that there 
were better, higher, nobler attainments in my spir-| 
itual career which I might secure. About this timel 
while sitting under the droppings of the sanctuary J 
the doctrine of holiness of heart ai ? entire sanctili-f| 
cation was preached by one of God. "^ly ambassa- 
dors, by means of which the Holy (i t awakened 
the sleeping energies of my soul to tne all-import- 
ant subject. I followed the preacher to his lodg- 
ings to give him battle on that subject. I brought 
forward as many arguments as I could think ofi, 
against him in order to bring out the whole trutl}| 
in support of the doctrine, which he successfully 
maintained by the word of God. There also ap- 
peared about that time an article in the Christian 
Advocate on the subject of holiness, well fortified 
by Scripture. It was read to me one afternoon at 
the house of brother Keagy, while on an afternoon 
visit in company with several of our sisters in the^ 
Lord ; among the number were two old mothers in:. 
Israel — mother Cornraan and mother Culbertson — j 
who were then able to unite tlieir testimony with 
the beloved disciples that "in Him there is no', 
darkness at all," and that it is our privilege to " walk 
in the light as Tie is in the light, and have fellow- 
ship one with another," and that " the blood of Jesus 
Christ liis Son cleansetli from all sin." I now fully 
resolved to " leave the things that are behind and 
press forward to the mark for the prize of our high 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



213 



calling of God in Christ Jesus," and to " leave tlie 
first principles of tlie doctrine of Christ and go on 
to perfection," as Chiist has bidden all his follow- 
ers ; and, before breaking np our party, we knelt at 
the throne of gTace in humble prayer for the bless- 
ing of perfect love to God, and for Scriptural holi- 
ness ; and that was the time and place that I began 
to apply the oars of prayer and faith to launch my 
little bark from the shores of justification into the 
deep waters of the ocean of love. 



CHAPTER XY. 

It was now in the summer of 1844. Some of my 
brethren had at different times asked me if I 
thought I had not a call to exhort. I was quite 
astonished at such an idea, and looked upon it as 
presumptuous in them to suggest or think of such 
a thing, for I was sensible not only of my physical 
blindness, but of my ignorance of the Scriptures ; in 
addition to that I was very poor, and felt unable to 
hire any one to read to me, knowing at the same 
time that it would require nearly or quite all of my 
wife's time to take care of her household affairs. 
But from the very time that I began to launch out 
into the deep, my mind began to be loaded with 
the conviction that God had something for me to do 
in the gi-eat harvest-field, while my inquiry was 



214 



TRIALg AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



like Paul's wlien lie was converted, "Lord, what 
wilt thou have me to do?" I went to the elder 
brethren with my case, who at once gave me li- 
cense to exhort. A door seemed to be open at 
once for me to enter the field. My first attempt 
was in the Methodist church at Greencastle. There 
was quite a large congregation gathered on Sab- 
bath evenino^ to witness how the blind man would 
succeed in his first attempt at this new undertaking. 
The cross bore heavier and heavier as the appointed 
time drew near. T had attempted to arrange 
something in my mind to say, but, as I arose to 
speak, my notes that I had attempted to write on 
the tablet of my memory were not to be found ; so 
I had to trust to the Spirit to teach me what to say. 
I talked away, hacked and hemmed for about half 
an hour, and the meeting was concluded. The ad- 
versary of my soul you may be sure was on the 
alert to tempt and try me ; but I had by this time 
become somewhat acquainted with his devices and 
wiles, and I was fully resolved to do the will of the 
Lord according to the wisdom and strength given me. 

The next move I made was to go into the coun- 
try with old father Hawbecker, a good, humble, 
devoted German preacher, who preached sometimes 
in Dutch and at other times in broken English, and 
I exhorted the congregations in English. The 
people in those neighbourhoods generally under- 
stood both languages. I found that every time I 
occupied I became more familiar with the use of 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



215 



tlie sword of tlie Spirit, and the people gave good 
j attention, and seemed to be interested, if not edified ; 
and the best of all, the Lord was with me, and that 
to bless. I soon began to make preparations to go 
to the Xorth ; but there was a camp-meeting to take 
place on the 6 th of September in Franklin County, 
also one in Maryland near by. Dear reader, you 
l! would not expect that such a lover of camp-meet- 
I ings as I could turn his back on two such great 
and heavenly spiritual feasts ; for I do really think 
ij that a Holy Ghost camp-meeting, where the breth- 
ii ren and sisters flock in from the East and West, the 
il North and South, and sit together in heavenly places 
as the children of a King, to drink freely of the 
" wine on the lees well refined," and to partake of 
" fat things full of marrow," — such a place I think 
is more like heaven than any other on earth. The 
saints retire to their beds after feasting through the 
day full of glory and of God, and fall asleep amidst 
shouts and heavenly anthems from a few souls that 
are too happy to retire or to sleep. Like the psalmist, 
i they " dehght to do the law of the Lord, and in his 
law do meditate day and night." When at the 
break of day they are aroused from their celestial 
dreams and visions by the sound of the trumpet 
, that calls them to duty, the silence of the morning 
I is broken by the song of praise and voice of prayer 
I to the God of Israel from the family altars ; and 
I perhaps before those that commenced the morning 
oblation arise from their knees the voice of prayer 



216 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



and singing may be heard from every tent in tlie 
grove. O, what a happy day will that be when ^ 
every house becomes a house of prayer, and every 
heart a fit temple for the Holy Ghost to dwell in ! 
— when neighbour shall not have to say to neigh- 
bour, Know you the Lord ? for all shall know him 
from the least to the greatest ! But it is not like 
heaven after all : for there is no night there ; they 
need no candle, neither the hght of the sun, for the 
Lord God giveth them light ; and they shall reign 
forever and ever. Rev. xxii, 5. No, no ! glory be 
to God, that will be a congregation that will never 
break up. 

I had now lived in those two meetings ten or 
twelve days. I shall never forget that morning ofi 
tears sind of joy of the brealdng up of the last one, 
which was in Pennsylvania. The night j^revious 
w^as one of the outpouring of the Spirit of the. Lord : 
many souls were born into the kingdom, and were 
shouting glory. I had been about as happy during 
the whole time of the meeting as I could be and 
live on earth. About eight o'clock in the morning 
the processions were formed in circles ; probably 
they would number five hundred. The circles were 
so formed that each brother aLxl sister could give ' 
the parting hand as the^' moved past each other. 
To me it was solemn, }et glorious beyond the reach 
of my feeble powu»' doe-crption : for that very daj 
I was to leave for th.^ orth ; I was to be separated 
from so many of my heavenly Father's children, 



XIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 21 7 

I 

i probably to meet no more till the resurrection 
I mom, 

** Blest "be tlie dear uniting love 

That will not let us part : 
Our bodies may far off remove, 

We still are one in heart. 

" Joined in one spirit to our Head, 

Where he appoints we go ; 
And still in Jesus' footsteps tread, 

And show his praise below. 

** Partakers of the Saviour's grace, 

The same in mind and heart, 
Nor joy, nor grief, nor time, nor place, 

Nor life, nor death can part. 

" Then let us hasten to the day 

Which shall our flesh restore ; 
When death shall al] be done away. 

And Christians part no more !" 

The 27th of September, 1844, we returned to 
. this country, the theatre of my youthful days ; and 
;^ on the 27th of November we were blessed with a 
j fine boy. No parent's heart was ever filled with 
\ more joy and gratitude to Him that giveth and 

taketh away, than was mine, hoping if we should 
ij both be spared, in a few years, by the blessing of 
^ God, he would be eyes and a staff to his blind 
^ father. that God may give me grace, wisdom, 

and patience to rear him in the nurture and admoni- 
; tion of the Lord, as a Samuel, or Timothy ; that 

when I am old he may rise up and call me blessed ; 
I at the same time may I be able to keep him on that 
I altar that sanctifieth the gift. 



218 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



'Not long after returniDg home I was invited by 
the brethren to preach or exhort in the meeting- 
house near Grain's Corners, in Litchfield ; to stand 
before not a few of the companions of my boyhood 
who were famihar with the folhes and indiscretions 
of my youth. It was a very cold day, and a small 
assembly convened in that large church, the females 
gathered around one stove, and the males around 
the other, on the right and left of the pulpit. Had 
I conferred with flesh and blood, I should probably 
have shrunk from that duty; but, thank God, al- 
though weak and imperfect, I do not think I ever 
shrunk from a known duty since he called me to 
labour in his vineyard : but I think if I was ever 
left to myself, and to the buffetings of Satan, it was 
when I was trying to preach at that time. The 
devil would whisper in my ears that I was nothing 
but George Henry that used to perform so many 
antics in that neighbourhood, and that all the con- 
gregation knew it, while to my imagination there 
was piled up before me a large stack of boards 
which I seemed to be addressing. This I will assure 
you v.-as up-hill work. But I worried out about 
half an hour, and requested one of the brethren to 
close the meeting by prayer. I was then humble 
enough in feehng to crawl ([ovm through a hole in 
the floor, had there been one, to hide from human 
observation. Our Saviour very truly remarks, that 
a prophet is not without honour, save in his own 
country. But I soon through grace got the victory 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRT. 



219 



over tlie devil, and pronounced him a liar ; for, not- 
withstanding I bore tlie same name as in former ' 
times, still I was not tlie same man. " He that is 
in Christ is a new creature ; old things are done 
away, and all things are become new\" So I got 
the devil behind me, and pressed forward for the 
crown. 

Doors w^ere opened in one place and another, and 
I occupied as an exhorter till the spring of 1845, 
when I obtained license to preach. I now sustained 
another severe attack from the enemy. I had an 
opportunity to preach on Frankfort Hill the next 
Sabbath after receiving authority to preach ; and if 
I ever groaned under trials and temptations, it was 
during the Friday and Saturday previous to my 
first attempt under a preacher's license. The sorest 
trial of all was, that I imagined that my wife was 
opposed to my preaching, and every mole-hill was 
magnified to a mountain. Saturday night, as I re - 
tired for the night, I endeavoured to unbosom my- 
self to the Lord, and asked him to let me know by 
a dream that night whether he had called me to 
preach his gospel, or whether I was going forth 
unbidden.^ I presume I had not been asleep more 
than five minutes, before I dreamed as follows : — I 
thoight I went with a basket in pursuit of some 
fresh meat for my family. I soon came to one of 
the pleasantest-looking men I ever saw, dressing a 
lamb. I told him I wanted some meat ; and he 
then lay before me tlie right shoulder of a beef, 



220 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



richly variegated with fat and lean. He told me to 
take it up, whicli I obeyed, and undertook to carry 
it away : it seemed to bear down on me with great 
weight. I attempted several times to lay it down, 
but could not. After I had removed it a distance, 
this same man that I saw dressing the lamb came 
and took it from me, his countenance appearing 
heavenly, and he smiled upon me as he relieved me 
of the burden. I then awoke with a degree of joy, 
and felt as much relieved as if it had been a hteral 
transaction. The interpretation was then brought 
to my mind, refening back to the law of types and 
shadows: Levit. viii, 25. Here you see the right 
shoulder was given to the priests for a wave-coffering, 
and placed upon their hands until Moses (who was 
the type of Christ) took it from them. So, by the 
grace of God, I am resolved to bear this wave-offer- 
ing until Christ shall say. It is enough, and permit 
me to exchange it for a crown of glory that fadeth 
not away. This dream, in addition to the dictation 
of the Spirit, confirmed me and encouraged me to 
go forth as an ambassador of the Lord Jesus ; and 
I have endeavoured to preach almost every Sabbath 
since, and sometimes two or three times a day ; and 
thus far I have proved him faithful to fulfil the last 
promise to his disciples before his ascension, when 
he commanded them to go forth and preach his 
gospel — " Lo, I am with you always, even to the 
end of the world." And blessed be God, I do not 
recollect of ever entering the sacred desk without 



I 



LIFE OF a. W. HE^TIY. 



221 



special manifestation of his presence. He has al- 
ways filled my mouth with something to say : my 
greatest difficulty has been that I am disposed to 
say too much, and that I do not know when to 
stop, seeming to be insensible of the flee tn ess of 
time. An old preacher, who is able to show him- 
self a workman, would doubtless edify and instruct 
a congregation more in half an hour than I would 
in double that time. So much for my preaching, 
and so much for my dreaming. 



CHAPTER XVL 

Reader, at this point I found myself again under 
solemn comdction, strange as it may appear; and 
this was the work of the Holy Ghost. While an 
humble local preacher, a hard-working farmer was 
simplifying the way .of holiness ; he was made the 
agent in the hands of God of rousing up my re- 
deemed powers and brightening my spiritual eye, 
and gi\dng me a panting after greater riches. 

I have heard that among the early gold-diggers 
in California, three men, while walking on the 
bank of a river, saw at a httle distance a golden 
strand of yellow dust that had been washed out of 
the rock near by. They saw at once that they had 
stumbled upon an almost inexhaustible treasure ; but 
to prevent any jealousy in the distribution of it, they 



222 



TRIALS AKD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



agreed that each man should have all that he could 
embrace, by falling down and stretching out both 
his hands. They then advanced and fell upon the 
golden sand, and each man spanned to his utmost 
and marked his portion. Do you not think, reader, 
you would have made a long arm on that golden 
opportunity ? So I felt. My eyes were opened, and 
I saw in the distance the inexhaustible treasure, 
the gold that perisheth not, enough not only to 
enrich me but the vrhole world. I saw and I be- 
heved ; but as I began to move towards it I met 
the universal foe, more formidable than the host of 
Pharaoh, the Red Sea, or the Alpine mountain. It 
was the same enemy that, with his single arm, 
beat back six hundred thousand men of war, and 
caused their bones to bleach on the desert of Ara- 
bia, so that they never entered into the promised 
land. 

But, says the reader, pray tell us the name of 
this mighty potentate. I will let the apostle an- 
swer : " They entered not in because of unbelief." 
Remember, reader, we have now our eye upon the 
rich treasure that lieth in the distance — a treasure 
far superior to anything that the richest mines of 
earth can produce. It is nothing less than to be 
sanctified wholly — soul, body, and spirit. We are 
not now seeking for the pardon of our sins, but to 
bo made perfect in the love of God. We are now 
lea^^ng the milk, and calHng on the Father for 
strong meat. 



LIFE or G. w. HEmr. 



Our petition is definite, and we expect a definite 
answer, that is, tlie very tiling we ask for ; for we saw 
in the distance the Spirit raising up a standard, upon 
which was written in golden characters the com- 
mand, peremptory and unqualified, "Be ye holy, 
for I am holy." At this juncture of the case, tempta- 
tions came in like a flood. Like the sacrifice spread 
out by Abraham, I found my offering set upon by 
strange birds, which sought to pick it away. But 
Abraham's faith failed not. Although a horror of 
great darkness fell upon him, yet he with vigilance 
■watched and w^arded ofif the foul birds until the 
time of the evening sacrifice, when, in God's own 
time, he sent down the smoking furnace and the 
burning lamp. Thus was I called upon to contend 
with the emissaries sent by the enemy of all 
righteousness to drive me from my purpose. The 
fii'st that victorious faith drove away was a modest 
little devil, who whispered that to expect such a 
high state of grace might do for now and then a 
D. D, in God's Lebanon ; but that it was presump- 
tion for a poor man, who had been recently quarried 
out of Egypt's horrible pit, to think of such a thing. 
The next messeno-er of Satan sent to buff'et me came 
clothed, in the form of an ancvel of ho^ht, tellino; me 
that I was unworthy to receive so gTeat a blessing. 
I was hke a little yellow bird I remember 
I catchiiig when I was a boy. I tied a long stiing to 
I it and then let it fly, and just as the poor little 
trembler was rejoicing in its escape, it would come 



224 



TRIALS Am TRIUMPHS IN THE 



to the end of the string, and be pulled back into 
captivity again. So it was with me when faith 
would begin to plume her victorious wing, and just 
as I was hoping to escape my tormentor, I would 
find my feet entangled in some new snare. But 
man's extremity is God's opportunity, and no doubt 
he often permits the seeking soul to run into the 
greatest difficulties on purpose to show us where 
our own wisdom would lead us, and to make known 
his power in our deliverance. It is when the Red 
Sea is before us, an impassable mountain on either 
side, and Pharaoh's host in the rear, that we may 
look for a miracle of mercy to be wrought in our de- 
liverance. In seeking for justification I tried a great 
many ways before I tried faith in Christ. And now 
I had not grown so wise by past experience, but 
that I had to work up about the same amount of 
rubbish, so perverse is the human heart. I have 
heard persons who professed to have a justified re- 
lation toward God, when spoken to about holiness 
of heart, say they did not feel worthy to enjoy so 
great a blessing. How absurd ! to think that you 
can \>Q justified in the sight of God while trampling 
under feet his express command, "Be ye holy." 
But, says one, how can it be that a person just con- 
verted is so happy, and so ready to die, and a little 
while after conversion we find him preaching that 
without holiness we can never see the Lord ? I will 
tell you how, and may every one who reads these 
lines remember the solemn truth. Justification is 



Ltt'fi or G. W. HENRY. 225 

the first degi'ee of holiness. The justified soul is rec- 
onciled to God, and, if called immediately to enter 
heaven, goes fully prepared into the presence of its 
Maker. God cuts short the work in righteousness. 
But to retain this state of reconciliation with God, 
we must walk in all his ordinances blameless. He 
commands us to go on to perfection. Can we feel 
justified in neglecting that command? Suppose 
you tell your son to go to school ; he says, " Yes, 
father," and starts immediately. You smile with 
approbation, and feel pleased with his ready obe- 
dience. Suppose that when he gets half-way there 
he falls down and breaks his leg. He is brought 
home. Do you feel displeased because he did not 
go to school, as you told him ? Certainly not ; he 
obeyed you as fai- as he had the power, and you 
take him in your arms with feelings of the greatest 
tenderness and love. Just so Christ receives the 
soul that, saying in his heart, " Yes, Father," has 
started on his heavenly journey. There is no re- 
belUon, no disobedience in that heart. Suppose 
Qow, instead of meeting with an accident, your boy 
bad stopped to gather beech-nuts, and failed to 
reach the school until the afternoon, would not the 
Dleasure with which he received your smile of ap- 
probation in the morning give place to a feeling of 
^uilt? Could he feel that his fether was pleased 
vith him, until he confessed his error and hastened 
. obey ? Observe, he did not incur guilt by going 
ack, but by stopping on the road. This will show 
15 



226 



•TRIALS AND TKIUMPHS IN THE 



tlie fallacy in the reasoning of those who contend 
that the soul, once prepared to die, cannot become 
nnpi'epared, except by receding from that point. 

Take care: the cry of unworthiness will avail 
nothing at the bar of God. The command is plain. 
How often have I heard brethren and sisters say, 
and that too with great boldness, that they knew 
that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven all their 
sins ; and, at the same time, let one ask them 
if they enjoy holiness of heart, they would almost 
faint at the very idea, and reply at once that they 
" never felt themselves worthy of that great bless- 
ing." 

I ask you, my dear reader, How came you by the 
blessing of justification ? One would suppose by 
your talk that you received it by your own merit. 
Alas ! what a rock is this on which thousands are 
suffering shipwreck. Suppose you ask the returned 
prodigal Vvhat he paid for his spotless robe and his 
ring of gold, he will point you to the bundle of old 
filthy rags at the pool where he washed. And, 
reader, whether you are saint or sinner, this is all 
you have got to give in exchange for either justifi- 
cation or sanctification. The poet has it exactly 
rioht : 

o 

" Notliing Lut sin have I to give, 
Nothing but love do I receive." 

"Would you not think it strange to see an individual 
gather up a hundred pounds of filthy rags in tho^ 
streets and exchange them at the bank for a huu'-j 



LIFE OF O. W. HENRY. 



22^ 



dred pounds of pure gold ? Would you not won- 
der to see a ragged, desolate female exchanging her 
old sun-bonnet for Victoria's crown, whicli cost its 
millions? This would be strange indeed, but not 
half as wonderful, or as profitable, or as easy, as the 
way of salvation by faith. I will give you the 
character of one or two more of these foul birds, or 
temptations, that pollute the sacrifice and greatly 
embarrass those who are seeking a clean heart. 
We are determined to tell the truth and shame the 
devil, by exposing his devices, and thereby make 
the way plain for others. He will tell you, that if 
you get the great blessing you will not be able to 
live it daily. He will remind you that you live 
in an irrehgious family, or are connected with a 
lukewarm Church. Here let us meet him with the 
stubborn fact that there loere a few persons who 
lived in wicked Sardis who had not defiled their 
j garments, but were walking with Jesus in white, or, 
1 in other words, in purity and heavenly joy. Here, 
again, let us spread out the writing. God has 
I pledged not only to make us pure, but to preserve 
j us pure until his coming. This white garment 
I must be worn every day of our Hves, and in every 
circle in whick we move, and be kept unspotted 
. from the world. 

1: A lady was once asked why she did not wear 
her white dress every day? She replied, "Be- 
1 cause it got dirty so quick." This is not true. A 
j white dress is no more susceptible of dirt than black 



TRIALS AKD THIOIPHS IX THE 



or gray. The only difference is, tli<3 ^vliite shows 
the dirt plainer. Is not this the great reason that 
more Christians do not walk daily in white ] 

The last formidable foe that was bronght out for 
ns to contend with, like Job's wife, when evervthino^ 
else had failed, was oui- darling repntation. Full 
and complete salvation ^^^'oposes to make ns hke 
Jesus; and one prominent feattire in his character 
was, that he made himself of no reputation. This 
was a stigma that he brought upon himseh' by the 
bold position he took against popular snis, especially 
those that we: ^ ::uLd in the Church. It is written, 
"They that will hve godly in Christ Jesus shall 
sufer persecution.'^ Le: c. preacher, or a class-leader, 
begin to war with popular sins in or out cf the 
Church, and he will find that he has waked up a 
hornet's nest ; but if you have not get your reptita- 
tion nailed to the cross, you will not be apt to do 
this duty ; therefore, ye seeker, count well the cost 
and agree to pay this price, and you have nothing 
to do but to lay your hand on the pearl. Amen. 
May the Lord help you. 

I will now tell you how I found the great blessing. 
There was a camp-meeting appointed cm the Her- 
kimer and Frankfort Charge, in the fall of 1845, im- 
der the superintendence of brotlier B. J. Diefendorf, 
a faithful and much-loved preacher, who had 
laboured the last two years in this valley of dry 
bones with great acceptability. His aged and vener- 
able colleague fell asleep in Jesus a few months 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



229 



since, and proclaimed, in tlie face of death, that he 
had enjoyed the blessing of perfect love, I think, for 
about twenty years. He was a living epistle that 
might be read and known in every circle in which 
he moved. A more triumphant death is seldom 
recorded than was his. 

But when the day had amved for Israel to pitch 
their tents in the forest, your humble author, with 
his httle family, was with them, the little canvass 
house being set in order. Soon the voice of fervent 
prayer might be heard in almost every tent for an 
entire extinction of sin in the heart. I think in all 
the camp-meetings I ever attended, I never witnessed 
so much wrestlino- for this P'reat blessino- as there 

o o o 

was from the beo^iunino- to the end of this meetino;. 
At its close there was a cloud of witnesses, generally 
among the aged disciples, who testified that the 
Lord had heard and answered their prayers. On 
the second morning of the meeting, I think, there 
was a prayer-meeting in one of the tents, at the 
close of which Brother Gorham (whom to knovv' is 
to love, both as a brother and a preacher) arose and 
told us how many years he laboured as a preacher 
without this diploma of perfect love. He also told 
us how he sought and found it to the joy of his soul, 
and how long he remained in the happy possession 
of it. But, alas I he said, and with a deep sigh, he 
was compelled to tell his brethren he had lost it by 
not watching and praying. And he said he came 
tLerc more in the character of a mourner than as a 



230 TRIALS AND TEITJMPHS IK THE 

preacher, and, with a sorrowful heart, he begged the 
prayers of his brethren, that God in his mercy would 
restore unto him the pearl of great price. He was 
like the woman spoken of by our Sa\dour that had 
lost the piece of sih^er ; he was sweeping his house 
dihgently to find it ; and^ blessed be the name of the 
Lord, he called his neighbours together at five 
o'clock on the third or fourth morning of the meet- 
ing to rejoice with him, because he had found what 
he had lost. When a goodly number of Israel were 
seated around the stand, their minds calm as a May 
morning, and free from excitement. Brother Gorham, 
being appointed to preach, arose on the stand, and 
pointed out how and when he recovered the blessing 
of perfect love. He also pointed out the dangers 
that stand thick around to deprive us of this jewel. 
He related his experience so plain, that a wayfaring 
man, though a fool, need not err in understanding 
the v/ay. He also contrasted justification and sane- 
tification ; and who is better able to set forth such 
truth than he who has experienced both degrees of 
grace in his heart ? and who is more unqualified to 
judge of such things than those who have never 
experienced them ? Let us first remove the beam 
from our own eye, before mounting the judgment- 
seat. While sitting under the droppings of his 
words, which fell like honey on my soul, all my 
powers of fiiitli and hope were drawn out to God 
for this blessing. I was enabled to lay hold on the 
very horns of the altar ; and, while sitting in silent 



LIFE OP G. W. HEITET. 



231 



invocalion, I was seized with a sudden trembling 
and a slight spasm, (as frequently occurs when I am 
filled to overflowing with the Spirit,) and my strength 
was measurably taken away, like the apostle Paul, 
" whether in the body or out of the body, I knew 
not f and I believe, for the fii^t time in my life, I 
was made insensible in my waking moments of 
what was passing around me. There seemed to be 
presented to me, while in this state, literally an altar ; 
and I thought I was laid on it as you would lay a 
child on its couch ; and while lying in this posture, 
I thought a voice interrogated me thus : " What do 
you want this blessing for ?" I thought I replied, 
" To quahfy me to preach the gospel." That mo- 
ment the Holy Ghost, like the refiner's fire, seemed 
to pass through my soul, literally shaking me from 
centre to circumference, as if the earthly tenement 
was to be shaken to pieces. During the whole 
process, down to this last-mentioned circumstance, 
I think I felt little or no joy, but rather the contrary. 
Like Moses, I did exceedingly fear and quake. But 
the moment after I felt this terrible shaking, the sun 
of righteousness broke into my soul w^th its meridian 
brightness and glory, dispelUng every cloud, and all 
darkness and doubt. My physical strength returned, 
and I suddenly rose on my feet, and shouted, " It is 
done ! the mighty work is wrought." What angel 
can tell the happiness and heavenly rapture I then 
fdt ? " 'T is done !" I exclaimed. 

Well, tell us what was done, says the reader. 



232 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



With tlie help of the Lord I will proclaim what 
he has done for me ; not what I have done for the 
Lord, for 

" Nothing but sin had I to give, 
Nothing but love did I receive." 

Glory to God in the highest ! Glory to God for- 
ever ! What angel pen shall write the joys of com- 
plete redemption ? The joy of seafaring men de- 
livered from shipwreck — the joy of a man delivered 
from a burning house — the joy of a criminal ac- 
quitted at the bar — the joy of a condemned male- 
factor in receiving pardon — the joy of freedom to a 
prisoner of vv^ar, is nothing to the joy of him who is 
delivered from going down to the pit of eternal 
destruction, for it is a joy unspeakable and full of 
glory. 

Then heaven comes down our souls to greet, 
And glory crowns the mercy-seat." 

Dear reader, when I sent out the first edition 
of this work, I had just received the blessing of 
perfect love ; or, as we understand the prophet 
Isaiah, entered into the land of Beulah ; or, in plain 
terms, perfect day. You have already been in- 
formed of my troubles while passing through the 
slough of despond before entering the strait gate. 
You have read of my trials and triumphs while 
travelling through the wilderness in the twilight. 
And now I profess, through grace, to have been 
set down in a higher and holier state. There is not 



I 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



233 



any portion of my first edition that I am more 
ashamed of than the following, which is found on 
page 262. I make use of the terms "deepened" 
and " renewed" work of grace, because the Scripture 
terms, " perfect love," " sanctification," and " holi- 
ness," seem to be " so objectionable to some." Had 
I taken counsel of Him who hath said, " Whoso- 
ever, therefore, shall be ashamed of me and of my 
words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of 
him also shall the Son of Man be ashamed w^hen 
he Cometh in the glory of his Father, with his holy 
angels, instead of looking on the muddy page of 
human production, I should have borrowed the 
plain Scriptural terms, w^hen I spoke of the great 
blessing I had received. May God have mercy on 
me, and forgive me for dodging the truth to ac- 
commodate the velvet ears of the world and half- 
hearted professors. I will never do it again, in 
writing or preaching, so help me God. I received 
a righteous rebuke in a letter from sister Palmer, 
soon after the volume was out. While she and the 
now immortal Dr. OHn read together " The Bhnd 
Man's Book," she pointed out the weakness and 
cowardice of those particular expressions; at the 
same time both joined in flattering commendations 
of my interesting little book. 

Perhaps there is no commandment, or phraseology 
of Scripture, that puzzles the brain, or staggers the 
I faith of Christians more than the one found in the 
. Bixth chapter of Hebrews : " Let us, therefore, go on 



234 TRIALS AOT TRIUMPHS IN THE 



unto perfection." Now, as we do not intend this 
little volume as a tlieologi€al essay, gathered up 
from distant fields, but simply as a record of that 
which we do know, by our own blessed experience, 
so then to the word and the testimony. 

The modern proverb, "See first that you are 
right, and then go ahead," is certainly a safe princi- 
ple for every action in human life. Therefore, we 
would lay the foundation of this little building upon 
the livmg stones of the gospel, Jesus Christ being 
the head of the corner. 

Dear reader, are you weary in travelling with me 
thus far ? If so, gird up your loins, and bucMe on 
your sandals, for we are' now coming into the gold 
regions. 

You have travelled with me from my youth. 
You have seen me scattering wild oats over the 
broad fields of hilarity and mirth, and few perhaps 
have reaped a more abundant crop of sinful pleas- 
ures. All has been vanity ! vanity ! You have 
followed me through the labyrinth of worldly busi- 
ness, and seen me, for more than twenty years, 
through storms and sunshine, striving for the gold 
that perisheth. You have seen me raise up villa- 
ges, and go off by the light of them. You have 
seen me pulHng down mountains, and raising up 
valleys. Almost every succeeding year you have 
found me just ready to lay niy hand upon the long- 
fioiight treasure. You have as often seen fickle 
foi tune snatch it from my grasp, and leave me again 



LIFE OF G» W. HENRY. 



235 



worse than a beggar at the foot of the hill. You 
have seen death come in hke a ravenous wolf, and 
take my lambs one by one, and lay them in the 
dark grave. You have seen poverty come as an 
armed man, and rob me of all earthly possessions. 
Quickly following in his train, you have seen total 
bhndness come and drop his sable curtain, shutting 
out forever the sun, moon, and stars, with all their 
radiant glory, earth with her green carpet, and, 
worse still, forbidding m^e ever again to look upon 
my dear wife and children. Thus you found me 
in 1841 on the hills of old Virginia, hke an old 
horse that had become worn out and blind in the 
service of a hard and unmerciful master, turned 
adrift to graze a few^ days in the corners of tho 
fences, to starve and die. 

My dear reader, I do not ask you to pause here 
and drop a sympathizing tear ; no, I ask you to 
rejoice with me. Do not call death, poverty, and 
blindness enemies^ for I certainly number thera 
among my dearest friends. They were not my Sa^-- 
iour, it is true ; but they were sent by a kind 
Father to lead me to my Saviour, and to perpetual 
peace and joys immortal. 

But, says the reader, how can these things be ? 
1 will tell you. 

When death came and took our little idol Fanny 
with scarcely a moment's warning, and left our 
hearts bleeding, I knew she had goue to heaven ; 
an.l, like the men of Gahlee, I began to turn my 



236 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

eyes away from earth and gaze up into heaven. 
This was a great work, wrought to get a sinner to 
turn his eyes from earth and look upward ; and God 
well knew that death was the only messenger that 
could accomplish this thing. 0, how thankful 
should I be, that he selected one of the family that 
was fully prepared for glory, and gave the wicked 
father and mother space to repent and prepare to 
follow the dear child to the realms of bliss ! O ro* 
member, reader, that he who lets such an afflictiofl 
pass without profit, loses a greater blessing than 
earth can afl:brd ! 

My second friend came in the form of another 
fell disaster, that, hke one of Job's heralds, trod close 
upon the heels of the first. My earthly possessions 
took to themselves wings and flew away. 

The men of this world are like the vine, which, hav- 
ing loosed its fastenings from the branches of the 
lofty oak, and fallen sprawling upon the earth, fastens 
its hundred tendrils around every filthy weed and 
briar with which it comes in contact. O, if I have 
tears to weep for one more than another, it is for the 
rich of this world, who have no Christ in their souls, 
and know not that they are poor and wretched, 
miserable, blind, and naked ! How many times have 
I heard paupers, in the various county poor-houses, 
thank God for poverty, while my soul responded a 
hearty amen ! For God hath said, he hath cliosen 
the poor of this world, rich in faith, to be heirs of 
the kingdoai which he hath promised to them th.vt 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



23? 



love him. Mark the last sentence. It is to the 
class of poor that love him. My third friend is 
blindness ; and God knows, if I ever offered him one 
sacrifice of praise, honest and pure, deep and fervent, 
it i^ for this, which my friends all look upon as an 
affliction. 

This certainly, to me, is one of the mysteries and 
wonders of redeeming grace that one of my stirring 
ambition should never have the least desire to see. 
And God knows my heart, that if sight was proffered 
to me this day, I should receive it with a trembling 
hand. I am perfectly satisfied to endure, as seeing 
Him who is invisible. I have said that I never de- 
sired to see : there have been a few exceptions. 
"When I have sat under a powerful sermon, where 
the veil of the future has been drawn and the awful 
destiny that awaits the incorrigible sinner and the 
infinite glory of the righteous portrayed, I have 
wished that I could have one beam of sunlight that 
^ould direct me to some trembling sinner, with the 
tear of repentance on his cheek. I would take him 
hj the hand and lead him to Jesus, who would say 
to his troubled soul, as he did to the Sea of Tiberias, 
"Be still;" and in the channel of those penitent 
tears send forth the rivers of love and heavenly 

0, how often have I returned from an evening of 
social prayer, when I could wring from my pocket- 
handkerchief tears, hke phials of dew-drops fallen 
from the rose of Sharon ! But they are aU bottled 



238 



TRIALS A^^D TRimiPHS IN THE 



by Him who numbers the hairs of my head. Hallo- 
lujali to God and the Lamb forever ! I do not wish 
to be understood, in^ what I have said, as undervalu 
ing earthly blessings ; but, to me, the loss of my pro 
j)erty was like losing a sixpence and finding a guinea 
The losing of my children resulted in the finding 
of Christ. The loss of my natural sight was like 
blowing out a candle and letting the sunlight of 
glory blaze perpetually in my soul. So much for 
my three friends. 



CHAPTER XYII. 

Dear reader, you have looked upon your author 
as the world generally does look upon the poor and 
tlie blind, and have said, perhaps, without looking 
into the future, it would be well for him if death 
would come and sign his release. But Christ sav/ 
in this shattered house of clay, with every window- 
hght broken in, an immortal gem, of more value 
than all earth's treasure ; and he came to me in the 
voice of mercy, and told me, if I would take up my 
c:'oss and follow him, I should be made a king and 
priest and reign with him forever. He told me that 
his house should be my home, his fulness my treas- 
ure; that I might make as free in all his store- 
houses of grace as in my own cupboard ; and that 
liis omnipresence should ever be my guide. 



LIFE OF G. Vr. HENRY. 



230 



what an inducement is held out for a lost sinner to 
come to Christ ! 

But I am dela^ving too much, and must hasten 
on my journey. If you recollect, we have travelled 
over the ground this morning from our youtia up to 
1841, the time when Jesus Christ took me prisoner. 
glorious captivity ! There are five particular cir- 
cumstances which occurred in the course of my ten 
years' travel that I wish to notice, and, like J. acob of 
old, raise up a stone and pour on the oil ; for' verily, 
they have been* as the gates of heaven to n ly soul. 
The first was the death of my little Fann} \ The 
second was my covenant with God, at the ^ T'irginia 
hotel, to seek his face or die. This was al Dout six 
months after Fanny went to heaven. Tl le third 
event took place about five months after, wh m Jesus 
drowned all my sins in the depths of his fat hornless 
mercy. The fourth was a conviction of my need of 
holiness, about tvfo years after my conversio n. The 
fifth, which was about one year after, was a full and 
complete salvation from all sin. And now T ! entered 
into the land of Beulah, where the sun or f lie moon 
never go down upon the soul. So here we find our- 
selves happy in the Lord, a place of bro ad»rivei*s 
and streams. It was on the 8th of Se ptember, 
1845, that I obtained a clean heart and rec eived the 
white stone with the new name, which no man 
knoweth save he that receiveth it. 

As the noble Hudson swallows up the,^ Mohawk 
at its jimction and bears it onward to the ocean. 



240 TIBIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN 

even so supreme love to God and man takes in justi* 
fication, with all its buds and blossoms, and bears it 
on its bosom to tbe unbounded ocean of eternal 
felicity. This we term the land, of Beulah, Pre- 
vious to my arrival in this happy land I had been 
through the wicket-gate, the dark valley, vanity fair, 
and the enchanted ground, after which comes the 
land of Beulah. As Bunyan has beautifully de- 
scribed it : " In this country the sun shineth night 
and day ; wherefore this was beyond the vale of the 
shadow of death, and also out of the reach of Giant 
Despaii ; neither could they from this place so much 
as see Doubting Castle. Here they were within 
sight of the city they were going to ; also here met 
them some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this 
land the shining ones commonly walked, because it 
was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also 
the contract between the bride and the bridegroom 
was renewed ; yea, here ' as the bridegroom rejoiceth 
over the bride, so doth their God rejoice over them.' 
Here they had no want of corn and wine ; for in 
this place they met with abundance of what they 
had sought for in ail their pilgiimage. Here they 
heard voices from out the city, loud voices, saying, 
' Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy Salva- 
tion cometh ! Behold, his reward is with him !' 
Here all the inhabitants of the countr}^ called them 
' the holy people, the redeemed of the Lord.' Now, 
as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing 
than in parts more remote from the kingdom to 



LIFE 05^ a. W, HENIll^ 



241 



whicli tliey were bound, and drawing near to the 
city tliey liad yet a more perfect view thereof. It 
was builded of pearls and precious stones, also the 
streets thereof were paved with gold ; so that, by 
reason of the natural glory of the city and the re- 
flection of the sunbeams upon it. Christian with de- 
sire fell sick. Hopeful also had a fit or two of the 
same disease; wherefore here they lay by awhile, 
crying out because of their pangs, 'Jf you see my 
Beloved, tell him that I am sick of love.' 

" But, being a little strengthened, and better able 
to bear their sickness, they walked on their way, and 
came yet nearer and nearer, v/here were orchards, 
vineyards, and gardens ; and their gates opened into 
the highway, j^ow, as they came up to these places, 
behold, the gardener stood in the way, to whom the 
pilgTims said, Yv'hose goodly vineyards and gardens 
are these ? He answered. They are the king's, and 
are planted here for his ov/n delight, and also for 
the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them 
into the vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves 
T/ith the dainties. He also showed them there the 
king's walks and arbours, where he dehghted to 
he; and here they tarried and slept." — Pilgrim'' s 
Progress, 

John Bunyan and many others travelled in this 
land many years, this side of Jordan; and shall 
Christians, in the nineteenth century, walk in twi- 
light, when they may be overshadov/ed with a bright 
chid on Mount Tabor, and hear a voice (not audi- 
16 



242 ' TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

ble to any other ear) but gently whispering within, 
acknowledging us as sons and daughters of the Al- 
mighty? 

This is an honour and glory that the unre- 
generate man is a stranger to ; but let us return to 
our encampment. 

The meeting closed on Saturday morning in a 
blaze of glory. I had thought it a happy morning 
on the 10th of August, 1842, when I found God's 
pardoning love ; but 0, who shall describe the pure, 
the holy joy of full salvation from all sin! You 
will not wonder that this was a happy meeting to 
my soul. Previous to it I had been hke Lazarus, 
when brought from death to life. "When Jesus 
came forth from the tomb, he left his gTave-clothes 
behind him ; but when Lazarus was raised from the 
dead, he stood by a sepulchre, wrapped about with 
his winding-sheet, and a napkin over his eyes. 
Jesus wanted him as a witnefs, to show to the un- 
believing Jews his power over death. Therefore, 
Jesus spake the second time, "Loose him, and let 
him go." This relieved him of his grave-clothes, 
and gave him perfect sight and liberty. He whom 
Christ makes free, is free indeed. Even so was I 
brought out of my grave of sin, bringing with mo 
many of my grave-clothes, or prejudices, even 
ajjainst the doctrine of holiness : and until Christ 
spake the second time, I was not made free. I was 
like the blind man that Jesus took by the hand, 
and after leading him out of the multitude, touched 



LIFE OV a. W. HENRY. 



243 



his eyes, and told him to look. He answered that 
he " beheld men as trees walking that is, he saw 
but very imperfectly. I remember that when my 
sight was faihng, there was a time when I could 
hardly tell a man from a stump, or a horse from a 
cow. I presume it was something so with the 
patient which Jesus had under his care. "Aftei 
that he put his hands again upon his eyes, and 
made him look up ; and he was restored, and saw 
every man clearly." Here he enters into the land 
of Beulah. O Lord, give all thy people a finishing 
touch, that they may see their way clearly into the 
promised land ! 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

The first Sabbath morning after camp-meeting, 
feeling the word of God, like fire, shut up in my 
bones, I concluded to go and see a brother who had 
not been to camp-meeting, and vfho, like myself, 
had been hobbling along, sometimes in the fight 
and sometimes in darkness. I found him in his 
shop, looking like the image of despair sitting upon 
a gravestone. He said : " Brother Henry, I have 
concluded to give up trying to serve the Lord, for 
the present at least. My wife is so peculiar in her 
disposition, and her temper is such, that it is impos- 
sible to keep up the family altar." I told him I 



244 



TRIALS ATD TnmrPHS rs' the 



stould like to see Ms wife. He replied that it 
would be of no use ; but I importuned, and at last 
made my way into her room — something I never 
would have dared to do before, knowing the parties 
as well as I did. After I entered the room we had 
a terrible storm. how Satan did rage I but with 
new-found strength and boldness, I began to tell 
them what the Lord had done for my soul, and 
what he could do for them ; and in a very short 
time we had the devil turned out of o: v v 1 we 
all knelt down before the mercy-seat ; c.::.: many 
times since has my good brother referred to that 
happy morning, when, like sinking Peter, he was 
pulled up out of the deep, and placed again, happy 
and rejoicing, in the old ship. Here we discover 
the meltmg power of God attending his word; 
bending at once the rebellious knee, and changing 
bitter epithets and sarcasm into accents of love and 
praise. 

You may think, reader, that this is a small affair 
to relate ; but I can tell you that it takes more moral 
courao-e to into a cao-e where a man and his wife 
are quarrelling, and seek to quell their wi-ath, than 
to take a torch, as old Putnam did, and creep into 
the den of the wolf. Putnam would hardly have 
ventured ^vithout his torch. Just so, we find our 
courasfe in the fact that our hearts are burninof like 
a torch, with love to God and our fellow-creatures. 
Here is use for a holy heart ; here is the test of that 
" perfect love that casts out fear," You will remem- 



LIFE OF G. W. ilENRY. 



245 



ber when I lay in the crucible, where God was 
pleased -to consume all my sins, that an invisible 
something asked, " What do you want this blessing 
for You know. I replied : that I may be bet- 
ter qualified to preach the gospel." I wanted to 
be able fearlessly to preach Jesus and his match- 
less love. And, dear reader, if you are seeking this 
blessing, let me ask. Is your motive pure ? or do you 
seek to consume it upon your lusts? We may 
bum incense, and snuff" up all the odours ourselves. 
With such sacrifice God is not well pleased. It is 
the honesty of motive that will bear your soul on 
the palanquin of faith, speedily and wonderfully, 
and, while you are yet aspiring, lay you in the bo- 
som of your God. My soul says, while writing this 
sentiment, "Amen! Hallelujah!" 

I verily believe, in taking a review of my own ex- 
perience, that more than half my sti-uggles, in seek- 
ing both justification and sanctification, have been 
for the loaves and fishes — the comfort and satisfac- 
tion of being freed from sin. It is true that God, 
in his promises, holds up the joys of his salvation 
as an inducement to seek his favour. But whoever 
seeks pardon or perfect love for its joi/s alone, may 
toil, like Baal's worshippers, from morning until 
noon, and from noon until the off"ering of the even- 
ing sacrifice, and with a like success. Seek purity 
with a single eye, and joy will as surely follow in 
its wake as fight follows in the track of the sun. 

I am the more explicit, because so many have 



24B TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



stumbled liere. When you are brouglit to see 
your own impurity, compared Y/itli the character 
of the God you love ; when you see how your 
very thoughts are mixed with w^orldliness, pride, and 
selfishness, and, as you struggle to get free from 
^vhat you begin to loathe, discover that you have 
no power to regenerate your nature, that there is in 
you no good thing, how you will groan, " Q who 
shall deliver m.e from this dead body And then 
comes the looking to Jesus, and the eye growls rav- 
ished with the perfection of his loveliness, his in- 
finite condescension, his amazing mercy, his fjerfect 
jmriiy ; and O, how the soul longs to be lihe him ! 
How it begs and prays to be made a fit temple for 
the Holy Ghost to dw^ell in ! Do you tImiJc of jot/ 
in that hour ? Is it not joy to be like Christ, the 
adorable, the blessed Saviour? Is not that joy 
enough ? 

Well, you remember I promised to preach the 
gospel in Frankfort. I had an opportunity the first 
Sabbath after my return from camp-meeting. God 
has promised to make his ministers a flame of fire. 
T alw^ays spread out the writing before him when in 
court, and I will say to the glory of his gi-ace, from 
that Sabbath to this, which is about six years, I 
have endeavoured to preach once, twice, or thrice 
every Sabbath, wuth a very few^ exceptions, and he 
has always answered by fire. O how good, how- 
rich, \\o^Y glorious is the promise left on record by 
Jesus : In that day ye shall know that I am in 



LIFE OF G. W, HENRY. 



217 



the Father, and you in me, and I in you." Here is 
our coat of mail, and it is bullet-proof. It is said 
that Napoleon once contracted with an artist to 
furnish him a coat of mail, for which he was to pay 
nine hundred ducats. In due time the artist came, 
and laid it before the emperor. Napoleon inquired 
if he was sure it was impervious to a bullet ? The 
artist answered at once in the affirmative, "Then," 
said Napoleon, " put it on yourself, sir, and stand 
out a few paces." The order was quickly obeyed. 
The emperor drew his pistols and fired several 
bullets at him, but they fell harmless at his feet. 
The emperor took the armour, and gave the 
artist eighteen hundred ducats. Our armour has 
been proved ; it has been able to stand the united 
assaults of three great princes, the World, the Flesh, 
and the Devil ; and whoever puts it on must expect 
an assault from these enemies of all righteousness, 
and, alas ! from some in the Chu7xli too. 

It was the chief priests that consulted to put 
Lazarus to death, "because that by reason of him 
many o.^ the Jews went away, and believed on 
Jesus." The sum and substance of the devil's busi- 
ness upon earth is to destroy witnesses, to put out 
the hght ; and the greater the light, the greater his 
anxiety to have it extinguished. Why, at the time 
of the Revolutionary War, the British would have 
given more for the head of Washington than for 
half a regiment of common soldiers. And never 
think that Satan is not as cunning as the British. 



248 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



He would like well, if he could, to spike the cannon, 
or stop the mouth of one of God's sanctified inym- 
cibles. Whoever, therefore, puts on this armour, 
must expect to be made a target for all hell to fire 
at. When I class myself among God's witnesses, I 
fcv^. like curling dov\m at the feet of my brethren as 
less than the least of aU saints. There is a piece of 
ordnance used in the armies of this world's waifare, 
called a blunderbuss, which is discharged without 
taking any direct aim ; it verV often hits those v»mo 
are least expecting it. So with my preaching : I 
generally fire at random, not caring who is hit ; 
many times receiwiiig a text from the Lord while 
i-eading the hynm or chapter, or while upon my 
knees at prayer. I have often had more liberty in 
preaching from such texts, than from those pre- 
meditated. 

I beheve it is somewhere written in the good 
book, Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it.'* 
About the last advice Paul gives to Timothy was, 
to bring along with him the cloak that he left at 
Troas, and the books, but esj^ecially the parchments. 
This esioeciaUy means, if you forget cloaks, books, 
and everything else, do not by any means forget the 
'pri.rchmen U. These seem to be all imj^ortant and indis- 
pensable. Ji?-st so with the qualifications necessary to 
be a iL^efui mirister of tlie gospel. If we can bring 
along the cloak of Aducation, \^gether with books or 
nmcli useful literature, and have a!^ fullv consecrated 
lo God, it is well ; but whetlier you br»ig" into the 



LIFE OF G. Vr. HEXRT. 249 

fidd a college diploma or not, I beseech you, for 
your own soul's sake, and for the sake of those that 
hear you, do not leave behind you the parchment 
of perfect love. A general may load his cannon, 
and direct it with mathematical skill against his 
enemies ; but one element is always indispensable, 
or he will never start the mortar on the enemies' 
fortress — he must touch fire to it. Even so the 
minister may have a sermon correctly and beau- 
tifully arranged in all its parts ; but if he is desti- 
tute of the perfect love of God in his heart, he will 
need Old Sammy Hicks's prayer before he can rout 
the enemy : " Clap fire to him, Lord 1" 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Ix this chapter we are to speak of one that you 
hav^ been introduced to in the foregoing chapters 
as my wife — one that forms part of myself. Xo 
figure used in the Bible so beautifnlly illustrates 
the union of the soul with Christ, as that of the 
marriage tie. The true Church is called the 
Lamb's wife. In the marriage covenant, whether 
temporal or spiritual, three things are mutually 
promised by the parties. The bridegroom promises to 
love, cherish, and protect. So does Christ his Church. 
The bride pledges herself to love, serve, and obey 



250 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IK THE 

the liusband of lier choice. So also ^every soul that 
would share in the heavenly inheritance must for- 
sake all others and cleave unto God, with full pur- 
pose of heart, to love, servo, and obey implicitly the 
heavenly bridegTOom. O happy union I ''For I 
am persuaded that neither death, nor hfe, nor an- 
gels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things pres- 
ent, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor 
any other creature, shall be able to separate us from 
the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

Earthly unions may be dissolved, the ties of 
friendship broken, and loved companions borne into 
distant lands ; but " W7co shall separate us from the 
love of Christ V 

Our God is not a God afar off. He is not asleep, 
or on a journey, v/hen we need his counsel or liis 
aid. He has said his salvation is nigh them that 
fear him. His presence can hghten the darkest 
dungeon, and penetrate the stoutest prison walls. 
O my soul, art thou not rich ? Hast tliou not 
married well ? What would you think, reader, if 
the only son and heir of an earthly prince, in seek- 
ing a bride, should pass by the proud and gay of 
earth and come into a poor house and woo the 
hand and heart of one cast out and forsaken by the 
world, poor, blind, and lame, in her rags and wretch- 
edness ? "Would you not gaze and wonder at such 
condescension ? How much more, then, should we 
wonder at the infinite stoop of the Prince of Glory, 
in choosmsr you and me, and the wretched and 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



251 



miserable of earth, for the companions of his bo- 
som. Well might St. Peter talk about " exceeding 
great and precious promises;" or St. Paul declare 
that "Eye hatli not seen, nor ear heard, neither 
have entered into the heart of man, the things 
which God hath prepared for them that love him." 
Piemember, these promises are only to those that love 
him. 

But to return to my narrative. You remember 
that I said, in a former chapter, that the first breath 
of prayer I remember ofi'ering after my soul was 
brouo'ht from darkness into lio;ht was, Lord, 
convert my proud wife I*' I fully beheve that my 
prayer, although short, entered, into the ear of the 
Almighty, although it was eleven months before 
the answer came, and she was enabled to break 
away from the Prince of Darkness, and enter with 
joy and a shout of triumph into the kingdom of 
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. My experience 
was similar upon enterino; the land of Beulah. I 
began earnestly to supplicate the Throne in her be- 
half. Do not think, dear reader, that during the 
two or three years from the date of our conversion 
we were not owned and blessed of God. Many a 
time was I slain by the power of God while in a 
justified state. But we were both something like 
a bottle of water with a little sediment in the bot- 
tom. If handled roughly, the water vriil show im- 
l purities that might not appear under more careful 
treatment; while one filled only with pine v^attr 



252 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



would remain so under the greatest agitations. Old 
Adam would occasionally rouse up within. It is bad 
enough to have the old fellow outside of the house, 
but horrible to have him within and without. For 
^ about four weeks after our return from the camp- 
meeting, we united our prayers together as joint 
heirs of the grace of life for the blessing of perfect 
love. Let us alv/ays remember, when we petition a 
higher power, that a definite request is followed by 
a definite answer. Let us alv\^ays, therefore, go to 
God little-child-like, and if we want bread, let us 
ask for bread ; or if a fish, let us ask for a fish, 
and our Heavenly Father will not retmii us a stone 
or a scorpion. Yve were not now pleading for the 
pardon of our sins, but vre v>'ere pleading in her 
behalf: "Create in us a clean heart, God, and 
renew a right spirit within us." 
It has been sung — 

" The devil trembles v,'h.eii he sees 
The ^veakest saint upon his knees." 

Although he is a chained enemy, his chain is 
often lengthened to permit him to try the faith of 
God's children. So it was in our case. 

A terrible storm arose. lie had permission to 
set his dividing hoof on the domestic hearth.'^ 
xTe^ 3r before did v e witness such soul-trying and 
heart-searching confiicts. But when in this agony^ 
we prayed the more fervently. We seemed to be' 
thrown u])on the hiu-'h seas without helm or com 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



253 



pass, every 5tar of hope seemed to be overcast with 
a dark cloud. I greatly feared the dove of reason 
would leave the frail bark no more to return. This 
storm continued increasing about four days. The 
waves ran high. It was with us like one lost on a 
lonely mountain, waiting for day. 

When every star goes out, it is a sure sign that 
day is about to dawn, and a bright sun to rise. It 
is at such perilous times, when despair is about set- 
tling its dark pall upon every gleam of hope, that 
Jesus comes to us walking on the water, saying to 
the disconsolate soul : " It is I ; be not afraid I" 
Business required me to leave home, and I went 
praying, fearing, trembling, for the loved mourner 
that I left behind. 

On my return, I entered the house and inquired for 
Mrs. Henry. I was told that she had gone to one of 
the neighbours. I followed her ; and, 0, how shall 
I describe ray emotions w^hen I beheld her sitting 
at the feet of Jesus ! It was the very same Jesus 
who had spoken peace to my soul, that now filled 
with unspeakable joy the breast of my dear wife. 
She had an audience around her melted into tears 
while they listened to the story of what Jesus had 
done for her. Like the two Marys, who, when they 
heard that Christ had risen from the dead, ran over 
the hills of Palestine to tell the glad tidings to their 
brethren ; so did this daughter of Zion seem to 
bound with joyous transport from house to house, 
^^arning and exhorting all with whoia she 



254 



TRIALS AND TKIUMPHS IN THE 



met. This continued for about four clays ; and 
whoever listened to her exhortations, whether saint 
or sinner, melted under their influence. I must 
confess that' I was sometimes tempted to stretch out 
the hand and steady the ark. The devil whispered 
to me: "Decency and order I reputation, that dar- 
ling idol, may go overboard." 

But Jesus, it is said, made himself of no reputa- 
tion. O, that the Church ma\' be moi'c like him ! 
I have described in former pages the raptures of 
God's pardoning love; but what angel pen shall 
wi'ite the joys of full salvation ! 

The little boy that led me had been converted a 
few days before, also the little girl that lived Avith 
us. 'No mortal can describe our happiness as we 
knelt around the mercy-seat. 

" Then heaven came down our souls to greet, 
And glory crown'd the mercy-seat.'* 

Glory to God forever! glory to Jesus! 



CHAPTER XX. 

Religion was at this time at a low ebb in Frank- 
fort, and out of one hundred wells there w^ere 
scarcely ten to be found with the living water 
springing upw^ard. For two or three years there 
was rarely a door opened in our village of seven 



LIFE OF G. W. HE:s'RY. 



255 



hundred iniiabitaTits for a week-niglit pi'ayer-meet- 
ing; and, aside from the clergy, we do not know 
of more than one or two who erected the family 
altar. 

But, thank God ! there were a few Presbyterians, 
Baptists, and Methodists, who were sure to find 
their way to the humble cottage of the blind man, 
and they always returned home as giants refreshed 
w^ith new wine ; for God always met with us, 

"And bless'd with liis presence our lonely retreat." 

Multitud^c^s have gathered arou]id our gate to hear 
fhe shouts of triumph ; for God hath promised to 
turn our mourning into dancing, and fill our 
mouths with laughter. 

So, reader, do not tliink strange that God honours 
his drafts or pays his promises ; but, as we intend 
to speak on the subject of holy triumph in some 
future page, we pass this theme for the pres- 
ent. 

It should be a great consolation to the redeemed 
that we are not dependent on our neighbours' wells 
for water, neither do we have to say. Give us of your 
oil. The lamps of a whole city may be lit up from 
one candle, and from one sun milhons of stars bor- 
row their light. 

Even so the true children of God fill their lamps 
from the one pure beaten olive-tree, and every lamp 
is lit up by one flaming torch from heaven's gTcat 
luminary. The Hie of the body is the soul ; faith 



256 TRIALS XKD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



is the life of the soul ; and faith is nourished and 
kept alive by the promises of the Lord. These are 
the food for faith in this life ; but in the life to come, 
faith lives eternally on performances. It is written, 
" The just shall live by faith." Let us search the 
lecords and discover what God hath promised. 
my soul, remove thy veil of unbelief. " We have 
heard his words ; what need have we of any further 
witnesses?" "He that hath ears to hear, let him 
liear what the Spirit saith unto the Churches." I 
am the author and finisher of faith. I am the God 
of hope, the God of love, the God of patience, tlie 
God of all grace ; and I will give grace to you ac- 
cording to your day. I will be a well of water within 
you, springing up unto everlasting life. Yea, I will 
satisfy your soul in drought, and make fat youi 
bones ; and ye shall be like a watered garden. 
These and many more great and precious promises 
are ours. 

0, my dear brother and sister in the Lord, can 
you ever again complain of barrenness and dry-time, 
as if Jehovah's all-sufiiciency was not enough to 
satisfy and keep your little heart bi'imful and run- 
ning over with his love. 

But, to return to our subject. It was in Frankfort, 
as in Sardis of old, that there were some who had 
not defiled their garments. They were walking with 
God. It is a rare place to look for a rose at the 
mouth of the burning crater. It would seem almost 
as strange to find a Jehoshaphat in the house of Ahab, 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRT. 



or a Joseph in the house of Pharaoh. But they did 
live there, and kept their religion. It is not the 
j^lace we are in — not so much ivhere we are or ivho 
we are, that makes us happy, as what we are. Al- 
ways remember that he who is holy must be happy. 
I do not believe I ever grew faster in grace than 
when relio'ion was at its lowest ebb around me. 
Seeing these fragments of broken vessels floating 
around me always has a beneficial eflect upon me. 
My prayer is continually : Give me poverty, sickness, 
01' persecution ; but 0, save n:ie from even a Laodi- 
cean lukewarmness. Christ has left one promise on 
record, which, like Aaron's girdle, I have bound for- 
ever to my bosom: ''If ye keep my command- 
ments ye shall abide in my love, even as I keep my 
Father's commandments and abide in his love." 
Eeader, mark the word even ; that is to a water-level 
with Christ. 

It makes no difference if you are a beggar or a 
king ; even as God the Father loved his own dear 
Son, so will Jesus Christ love you. Christ further 
declares, " These things I say unto you," not that my 
joy may be felt now and then, at a camp-meeting, 
or love-feast, or in the spring-time, when every httle 
stream overflows its banks, but " that my joy might 
remain in you, and that your joy may be full." 
Yes, glory to God ! your heart and mine may 
be full and running over from this moment 
until our 1^-et are set in triumph on the other side 
of Jordan 

17 



258 



TRIALS A^'D TEIUMPH5 I^' THE 



True LCikh, like water, will rise in tlie pen-stock 
level with the fountain. So let us lay our pipes 
right at the head of the fountain, on the pinnacle of 
Mount Zion ; for it is written, According to thy 
fiith be it unto thee.'^ 

Dmhig the winter of 1S47 father Pioper. whose 
name is written upon the hearts of th'jiisands, com- 
menced a protracted meeting in Franhfjrt. This 
was about his last work on earth. Standing up in 
the old Masonic hall, in Moses-like meekness, he 
wept over sinners in Frankfort as he warned them 
to fiee from the wrath to come and lay hold on the 
hope set before them. 

Here permit us again to speak of her whose life 
forms a part of this narrative. Mrs. Henry, though 
timid and retiring as the fawn that startles at the rus- 
tling leaf on every other occasion except the advocat- 
ing of the glorious cause of Christ, could now rise, 
in the strength of her Master and in the fa :'? > f inti- 
delity, and exhort sinners to come to Jesus, and tlien, 
wdth strong crying and tears, entreat God in tlu ir 
behalf. The fear of him whose power is limitt.-d t^.^ 
the destruction of the body, had given place to that 
j^erfect love which casteth out all fear. 

How true it is that God often uses the weake st 
instruments to bring to naught the wisdom of tlie 
wise ! Here was a feeble lamb facing an army of 
wolves. Glory to God on high ! It is not in our 
own strength that we measure swords with tlie 
prince of darkness. But the protracted meeting 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



259 



was brouglit to a close. Althongh not as many 
fish were drawn to shore as we could wish, yet 
every honest tear was bottled, and at a future time, 
as we shall hereafter relate, poured out in a shower 
of mercy upon many hearts in Frankfort. As I 
have mentioned father Roper, I will close this chap- 
ter by relating a dream. 

A few weeks after father Roper was borne away 
on angels' wings to his long-sought rest, it so hap- 
pened that I lodged in the game bed where he left 
his armour to receive his crown. After falHng 
asleep I dreamed that some one came to me, bring- 
ing letters from several preachers, and among the 
rest one from father Roper. I inquired where I 
could find him, and the messenger pointed to the 
top of a hill, through a long row of splendid build- 
ings, to a door opposite a tree. That, said he, is 
father Roper's house. 

As I came to the door, a being; transcendently 
j beautiful welcomed me in. Gr jat God, where shall 
I I find language to describe the glories of that scene ! 
As far as the eye could penetrate this heavenly saloon 
seemed to be lit up with ten thousand chandeliei-s, 
shedding a halo of mellow light upon a garden cff 
flowers, variegated and beautiful, beyond anything 
we ever discovered, read of, or imagined on earth. 
In this garden I saw many of my youthful compan-- 
I ions, who had long since passed the portals of death. 
jOne of them brought me, on a plate, a cut water- 
lJi,elon. Her countenance wa,3 radiant with hc^avr 



260 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



enly peace and joy, . The very tlioug'liL of that 
scene has a thpnsand times ravished my hQuvi ^Yith 
joy as I trp^'d on in this vale of teai's, singing as 

" No lOofc of land do I posses?, 
Xo cottage in this wildcniess." 



CHAPTER XXI. 

It is now the spring of 184 6, and in the fourtli year 
of my pilgrim aa'e to Mount Zion and the first year 
in the land of Benlah. One of the certahi fruits of 
a 3'oung convert is a missionarv sp^t-i . . The propLiet 
Isaiah, after the coal of hallo v. ed nre av.-'s laid upon 
his hps and his iniquity taken awa*' an.i his sin 
purged, heard a voice from the turout^, s.^ving, 
" Whom shall we send V He ic-phed, Lord, here 
am I, send me." 

With the young convert there is ''^.r^: ■• a viH- 
ingness, but a burning desire to tpll wli:'-, o-od has 
done for him. John Luuyan sa}s thav ' -iLrhig 
ho7ne from church after his conversion, - ^ .w a 
flock of crows; and so great was his love cve'y- 
thing that God had made, that he would wiiiingly 
have stopped and told tliem the s^~^jy of Jesus's par- 
doning love if they could have understood him. 

This missionarv spirit flames still higher when the 
eye is touclied the second time, and we behold evety 



IIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



2C1 



man in his true liglit ; at least this was my liajipy 
expenence. It is not only- our duty, but exalted 
privilege to publish these glad tidings. David 
wanted, to gather around him every one that feared 
God on the whole earth, to tell them what God had 
done for his soul ; that as far as the east is from the 
west, so far God had removed his sins from him. 

St. Peter seems to think it constitutes a great 
part of a Christian's duty to show forth the praise 
of Him who hath called us from darkness into his 
most marvellous light. Yes, bless the Lord I Peter 
may well call it a marvellous light. Like the burn- 
ing bush, it is wonderful to behold, doubly so to 
dwell therein. Saint Paul says, Let us therefore offer 
unto God the sacrifice of praise ; and, lest we should 
mistake his meaning, he adds, that giving praise to 
his name is the fruit of our lips. Dr. Payson said 
that he often felt like borrowing Gabriel's trumpet? 
that he might spread the news of salvation from pole 
to pole. This same seraphic fire blazed in the soul 
of your humble author. 

I felt that if I had the tongue of angels, if every 
hair of my head were a tongue, all should be em- 
ployed in spreading the glad tidings of Scriptural 
holiness over the land. It is an ancient proverb, 
that " where there is a will there is a way." As 
you see, reader, I have been almost everything in 
my life but an author, and surely I might have ex- 
pected to be anything else but that. Little did I 
think that the gwng a history of my life to the 



262 TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS THE 



world TTOuld benefit any one. But none but God • 
can bring sometliing out of nothing. 

If I ever understood the leadings of tlie Spirit, it 
was in tlie matter of giving to the press and to the 
world an account of the dealings of God with my 
soul. But how was this to be done ? It would cost 
several hundred dollars. My capital stock at this 
time consisted of a feeble wife and two little children, 
a bundle of common furniture in a hired house, and 
I a blind husband and father. 

But I am thankful in my soul that Jesus Christ 
is the same now that he was in the days of Saint 
Paul, when he chose the weak things of the world 
to confound the things which are mighty ; and base 
things of the world and things which are despised 
hath God chosen, yea. and things which are not; 
to bring to naught things that are. Reader, was 
not the power and grace of God magnified by the 
lifeless, rough, and crooked instrument which he 
made use of in throwing down the walls of Jericho 
for more than if the work had been accomplished by 
means of Roman enoines ? What o-eneral of the 
present day would select the jaw-bone of an ass as 
a weapon of war ? The reason the apostle gives for 
tlie use of such humble instruments is, that no flesh 
should glory in his presence. 

If we, then, glory in our own strength or wisdom, 
can we expect God to make us instruments of good ? 
A minister, whatever his talents or attainments, ia 
not qualified to be used successfully m spiritual war* 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



263 



fare until he lias ceased from Ids own loorlcs. An 
ass is among tlic most despised of animals while liv- 
ing ; but it was when the jaw-bone had ceased from 
its own works — ^was dead and laid aside — that it was 
used successfully in the hands of Samson against 
his enemies. Even so every minister of Christ should 
be evangelically dead — or as indifferent to flatteries 
or frowns, glories or honours, as the humble bone 
used to slay the Philistines. Christ was slain to re- 
ceive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honour, 
and glory, and blessing ; and in vain may his true 
followers look for power, heavenly riches, and hon- 
ours, until they have nailed their lives, property, and 
even their darling reputation to the cross. They 
must be willing, too, so to be lifted up that a T/icked 
world may wag their heads and point the finger of 
scorn, and the Pharisaical cold-hearted professor of 
religion say. Come down from the cross ; that is. 
Come down on a level with us, and be satisfied with 
now and then a little milk, and live the balance of 
the time on garlic and onions. Then we can fel- 
lowship you. This is the price to be paid for holi- 
ness. This is selling all and buying the field. Tliis 
is our diploma, our qualification for holy war. For 
it is written, "Stronger is He that is in you than he 
that is in tbe world." So much for the instruments 
with which God chooses to carry on his warfare.- 
Therefore take courage, my soul, and vrhat he saith 
unto thee write in a book. I have said I was with- 
■ capital, but here I was mistaken. Can a man 



264 



TRIALS AND TRICMrHS IX TIIE 



be witliout capital who has a sanctified companion 
praying for him, together with the promises of a 
faithful God, who never mocks a feeble worm by 
commanding him to stretch forth a paralyzed and 
withered arm without giving the power to do it. 
So we went forth to our work comparatively penni- 
less ; and as fast as Satan planted sycamore-trees 
and raised up mountains of difficulties, Faith said. Be 
ye removed and cast into the depths of the sea. A 
contract was made to 2)rint a book of about one 
hundred and fifty pages. 

I came home, put a pen into the hand of the 
little boy that I had hired to be the fight of my 
eyes, and commenced in good earnest to make a 
book. In the language of Bunyan, " As I pulled, 
it came," and in about five Aveeks I had upwards of 
three hundred pages. I got fifteen hundred copies 
pi'inted, and it cost over four hundred dollars. 

The printer and bookbinder seemed as willing to 
wait as if I was worth my thousands. He that 
called me to this work had prepared the way before 
me. O, how^ good it is to trust the Lord. The 
first book I ofiered for sale, was at the Method- 
ist Conference, in Lowville. I had with me, besides 
the books, a quantity of fine cloth, and hair-brushes 
of my own make. Almost every minister bought a 
brush of me, and took a dozen of my little books 
to sell. God bless them ! 

The next door that opened was the school dis- 
trict library, accompanied with high comnjendatioiis 



LIFE OF G. HENRY. 



265 



from the siipermtendents, Judo-e Graves and otliers. 
Here I must acknowledge, with gratitude, the special 
providence of God in enabling me to provide for 
the support and comfort of a helpless family. The 
school district libraries have from five to twenty 
dollars appropriated annually, for the purchase of 
Looks. So, instead of going aroimd with one book, 
I took my boy cind attended the great book auc- 
tions which are held twice a year in the city of 
New-Yoi'k ; and from that year until the spring 
of 1852, I have generally bought and sold about 
one thousand dollai's worth of books annually, so 
that the barrel and the cruse have never yet been 
empty. My bread and water have been most as- 
suredly given. 

Another etlectual door it opened to me. While 
the fifteen hundred tongues, in the shape of a little 
silent book, were proclaiming the goodness of God 
to my soul, I found a large itinerant field in which 
to preach the gospel. This opportunity I gladly 
embraced ; and there are but very few churches, for 
twenty miles around Frankfort, in which I have not 
been permitted to proclaim the unsearchable riches 
of Christ. Glory to God for the privilege ! I have 
made it a rule never to enter a house, or to be in 
the company of any pei'son a sufiicient length of 
tune to give an opportunity, without saying some- 
thing about a preparation for eternity. I never 
hear the bell tolling the departure of a neighbour 
from time into eternity, v^ithout asking mysetf: 



266 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



"Have I done my duty to that soul?" Graciou3 
God, let me feel for souls now as I shall ki that 
da}" when thou shalt come to reckon with both 
preaclier and people I One cheering thought is, 
that in that day I vshall hail with joy, in the glori- 
ous city, thousands whom I have never seen, yet 
dearly love. My brethren, whose voices I am famil- 
iar with, but whose faces I have never seen, will 
greet me there. iNlany of them I have perfectly 
dagueri-eotyped in my own mind, as if I had seen 
them all my life ; and my own children, that I have 
never seen, seem to be as famihar to me in every 
feature, as if I had looked tipon them every day of 
their hves. So strong is the ihusion, that it seems 
to me, if m}' sight should suddenly be restored, 
I shoidd certain!}" recognise them far from home. 
I have thought it wotikl be a great curiosity if I 
should suddenly receive my sight, to see how mis- 
taken I had been in picturing out the visage of men 
and things since I became blind. How much more 
if I had been born blind. How old Bartimeus 
must have wondered when Jesus touched his eyes, 
and he beheld the thousand beauties of nature for 
tlie first time ! "With what astonishment did he be- 
hr)]d the king of da}", with his golden beams I With 
what pleasure did he gaze upon the green fields of 
l^ilestine, and still more when lie beheld the face of 
liis divine oculist. And doubly so, he wlio was 
both deaf and blind. At a word, the deaf ear .was 
unsealed, and listened with unspeakable joy to na- 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



267 



ture's thrilling anthems. Gracious God ! if the 
opening of the eye and the ear to the beauties of 
the natural wcdd will cause such rapture, how in- 
describably thrilling must be the emotions of one 
translated in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, 
to behold the glories of the upper world, and to 
have the songs of the redeemed, as the portals of 
the heavenly gate are thrown back, suddenly burst 
upon the ear. " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
neither hath it entered into t\e heart of man to 
conceive the things God hath prepared for them 
that love him." I once heard an old man say, that 
though often happy in God, he never had felt like 
shouting — never had shouted in his hfe ; ^'but," said 
he, "if I am ever so fortunate as to reach heaven's gate, 
when I see the host of the redeemed — the ransomed 
of the Lord, from the whole earth — the poor, the 
rich, the black, the white, the old and the young, 
all go up together to possess their heavenly inherit- 
ance, as they pass the threshold of heaven, and cast 
the first wondering look around heaven's vast do- 
main, and strike the first note of praise unto ' Him 
who hath loved us, and washed us, and given him- 
self « for us,' I think I shall send up one shout of 
glory to Goi'' 



268 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



CHAPTER XXII. 

The fall of 1847 found me set down at a camp 
meetinor. in M'Connellsville. This was Israel's an 
nual festi\^ty, or feast of tabernacles, a kind of a 
harvest-home to the reapers. You have been with 
me, dear reader, to a great many camp-meetings, 
while I was living in a state of justincation, and you 
will not expect me to rehnquish, in a higher and 
holier state, such a nuptial festiWtv. Mv com- 
panion, also, came with me, in order to participate 
in those holy delights ; but the Master of Assemblies. 
In his wisdom, set before her a plate of bitter herbs, 
while my portion, like that of Beujamiii, seemed to 
be increased five-fold. While the windows of 
heaven were raised, and my soul inundated with 
heavenly glory, she was called to suifer. She was 
taken suddenly ill, and was remo\-ed fi'om tlie camp- 
ground to the house of sister Koon, who also left 
the field, like a g'liardian angel, to smooth her pil- 
low in sickness. Here was a sacrifice f:u* richer in 
the sight of God than ever smoked from a Jewish 
altar. Here was an exhibition of that love which 
seeketh not her own, but another's good. How 
good it is for the sick to fall into the arn^s of mercy. 
What a rich investment were the twopence sacri- 
ficed by the Samaritan for the good of his afflicted 
neighbour. Yes, glory to God ! every step, every 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY, 



269 



teat^ 4ncl every penny invested in the cause of 
mero) will yield a rich reward, if given from pure 
love to God and man. Thousands of years in par- 
adise for the least good thought, and thousands of 
tliousands for the least good deed, and then the 
reckoning shall begin again, till all arithmetic is ex- 
hausted, for you shall be swallowed up in a blest 
sternity, and the doors of heaven shall be shut upon 
you, and there shall be no more going out ; so shall 
we be ever with the Lord. To leave a camp-meet- 
jing to attend to the sick, is something like Jesus 
leaving heaven and coming down to earth to' bind 
jp the broken-hearted. May the Lord ever bless 
feter Koon ! But let us return to the camp-meet- 
ing. Brother Squires, who has since taken his 
ioassport to the eternal world, was preaching; his 
ext was: "And let the God that answers by fire, 
,!)e God." I, like Stephen, looked steadfastly up 
'mto heaven, and suddenly the hallowed fire came 
Eown, seeming, literally, to pass through soul, body, 
md spirit. No shower-bath was ever more sensibly 
elt than that baptism of the Holy Ghost and of 
Ire. I trembled and fell to the ground. In this 
, )rocess I think I was cured of a little spiritual pride ; 
. . ]\ad been instructing my wife a few days previous 
^»n a more genteel way of shouting when slain, or 
>verwhelmed by the power of God. Under such 
j»owerful exercises she would often scream and yell 
the top of her voice. I told her it would appear 
.■etter if she would articulate : Glory to God ! Halle- 

1 



270 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



lujah ! or, Praise the Lord ! This, I told her, would I 
be more pleasing to the ear of those who surround- 1 
ed her. Thus I put forth the hand to steady the | 
ark ; but when the power of God overwhelmed my ; 
soul on the occasion above referred to, in spite of allj 
of nature's powers or modern fashions, I yelled like ^ 
a panther : I felt my pride greatly mortified, while i 
the devil whispered to me that my brethren would * 
all be tried with me for making such a great noise; 
and thus has been the manner of my exercises up 
to the present day ; and when Satan comes whisper- 
ing, order and decency, I just tell him to get behind 
me, and not trouble himself about children that dc 
not belong to him. Very likely if it was not for this 
thorn in the flesh, this messenger of Satan to buftet 
me, these peculiar exercises might be the occasion oij 
pride. Some one has said, " Deep is the sea, and deep 
is hell, but pride mineth deeper." Mark its various 
transformations, as it seeks to retain its hold upon! 
^e heart ; even at the throne of grace it will beset 
thee ; yea, from the palaces of heaven ambitious 
pride once cast down a legion of angels ; doubtless, ! 
pride is the most powerful engine that the prince oi \ 
darkness ever run out from his depot ; it is destroy- ! 
ing more devotees at this day than were ever crushed 
under the wheels of Juggernaut. God knows that, ^ 
blind and poor as I am, I am more afraid of this 
than of war, famine, or cholera. Here, at this camp- J 
meeting, I met, for the first time, sister Elizabeth I 
Vard, under circumstances never to be forgotten, I 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



271 



About twelve o'clock on tlie first niglit of, tlie 
; camp-meeting, as I was returning from a prayer- 
!! meeting, I heard deep and fervent intercessions 
|| going up to God in tones of earnest entreaty. It 
j was Elizabeth wrestling for the ci'own of perfect love, 
I which a short time previous had fallen from lier 
; head. As she saw me she said, "Brother Henry, 
come and pray for me." I was, at this time, nearly 
on the top-round of Jacob's ladder, and I felt more 
like praising than praying. But we knelt down 
j there, and once more measured swords Avith the 
! prince of darkness. The contest was severe, but 
faith told us the victory should be ours, and so it 
I was. She again received the crov/n of perfect love^ 
and wore it in triumph a few days on earth, and 
then melted away from the vision of her eanliiy 
friends, as the morning star melts away in the uj^per 
and brighter sky. Her friends have prepared a 
little volume of her life and warfare upon earth, and 
. her early translation to her ir- - ' - liMit. On 
the last morning of the a?. -- --g, ]'.-vother 
Hartwell preached from this text : " Create in me a 
clean heart, O God, and renew a riglit spirit within 
me." My seat being immediately in front of the stand , 
I felt the honey very sensibly dropping from the rock 
as he blew the gospel trumpet over my head, sweeten- 
ing all my ransomed powers. The sermon being over, 
I started for the tent ; but, like the man sitting' at 
the beautiful gate, I felt my feet and ank! : 

Fi^ceive strength, and commenced leapino- an- 11.; . 

m ^ ^ 



272 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



ing God. The meeting closed with a love-feast, at 
wliich a cloud of young converts testified that they 
had in that hallowed place found a sepulchre for all 
their sins. There were also witnesses, not a Yew, of 
complete and full salvation. Glory to God for full 
salvation ! glory to God for camp-meetings ! Ho^v 
many in the Church above would this day echo 
back. Glory to God for camp-meetings ! for it has 
been the gate of heaven to their souls. 

Do not think, reader, that we are going to make 
up our whole life on the camp-ground. Still, it will 
be something hke the history of the Revolutionary 
War — mostly made up of great battles and glorious 
victories, while little is said about the days of drill- 
ing, brightening up armour, &c. But as Israel had 
pitched their tents again on the plains of the town 
of Schuyler, my wife being convalescent, we raised 
a little canvass house of our own ; and, my Lord ! 
was not that a Bethel to my soul ? I was like a 
balloonist I once saw in Pliiladelphia. After his 
balloon was inflated, he got into his little car, and 
requested his friends to let him rise about twenty 
feet, and then fasten it to the ground with a cord, 
until he had everything in readiness to rise higher. 
Even so it was with my soul. It was perfectly in- 
flated with the Spirit of the Lord. I think I then 
realized the prayer of the apostle in behalf of the 
Ephesians, "that they might know the love of 
Christ, which passeth knowledge," and "be filled 
with all the fulness of God." Yes, glory to God ! 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 273 

my soul was floating far above the principalities 
and powers of earth ; and had death at that time 
been permitted to cut the silver cord, my ransomed 
soul would have soared away to the home of its 
God. My wife, while engaged with Martha's hands, 
had Mary's heart. She had long since chosen that 
good part which Mary chose ; and, thank God, al- 
though four long years have passed since that time, 
it has never been taken from her. Although sick- 
ness and sore conflicts have marked ahiiost every 
step of her way since that time, yet she has been 
abundantly sustained. I wish to mention one little 
incident that occurred at this meeting, about my 
making money out of the devil. I was on my 
knees praising the Lord, when my little boy came 
and whispered in my ear, " Brother Henry, some- 
body has cut our harness all to pieces." I turned 
and said, " Do not say a word about it ; if the de^nl 
wants to whet up his knife on my old harness, let 
him do it ; it shall not disturb my peace." I^either 
could he; for just then I felt rich in the Lord. 
How glad he would have been to have disturbed 
my temper a little, and make me murmur against 
God for permitting me to sufter loss, when I was 
in the way of my duty. So I told the boy not to 
mention it ; but I was too late, for he had already 
told several on the ground, and several of the 
brethren came and slipped a piece of money into 
my hand or pocket, to make up the loss. And at 
the close of the meeting, brother Jones came and 
18 



2/4 



TRIALS AKD TRirMPHS I^T THE 



bi'ouglit me a very good old harness, and said; 
" BiOtlier Henry, I ^vill make you a present of this 
Iiarness.*' So I put it on my horse, and used it two 
or three years. My harness that was cut I got 
mended for one shilling. So you see I made quite 
a speculation out of the devil that time. If ttc want 
to take advantage of the devil, it is in vain to Cjuarrel 
with liim, for he has the benefit of long experience, 
and is very subtle : btit we should do as the servants 
did in the case of the unmerciful creditor. They 
vrent and told their Lord, who at once punished 
i::;:: - -verely. Well, once more we were safely at 
home, and now comes the test of our Christian 
graces. Many Christians would stand a hard brush 
with Tiie old e^nil one in person, while at the same 
time he would grow pei-plexed and peevish at a 
thousand little trials not larger than a mosquito. 

Here is a wasting of spiritual strength so per- 
petual and gradual, that it is hardly perceived until 
the poor soul finds itself far gone in a spiritual con- 
sumption. The shorn Christian wonders at it, for 
he has kept up his usual form of prayer, both in 
public and private ; indeed he cannot think of any 
sin of omission or commission, that he has been 
knowingly and willingly guilty of; but there he is. 
As great mountains are made up of httle j^articles 
of sand, so these little mosquito trials have rolled 
up a mountain of sin between him and his God. 
Perhaps you have often prayed that the Lord would 
pour out his Spirit upon the heathen, and convert 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRT. 



275 



the world, and build up his kingdom everywhere, 
when at the same time a whole swarm of petty 
vexations and httle anxieties are so distracting your 
thoughts, that you hardly know what you are 
saying. 

Perhaps a careless servant is wasting your sub- 
stance, or a blundering workman has spoiled your 
goods, a child is vexatious or unruly, a friend has 
made promises and failed to keej) them, an ac- 
quaintance has made unjust or satirical remarks, or 
you have a headache, your house is in disorder, and 
company comes that you wish to have form a good 
opinion of you ; but all this calls forth no prayer for 
strength and patience, though it is all the time 
lying hke lead upon the heart. You feel as if these 
were small affairs to trouble the Lord with, and thus 
your stock of grace diminishes, speck by speck, and 
the peaceful dove has flown from your turbulent 
breast. if God were only known and regarded as 
the soul's familiar friend, every little care as it comes 
to us would be laid upon him who is able to bear 
it, and our lightened spirits would pass on rejoicing 
in him who has said, " Trust in the Lord with all 
thy heart, and lean not unto thine own under- 
standing. • In all thy ways acknowledge him, and 
he shall direct thy paths." 



2^6 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



Ill) 



About this time a circumstance occmTcd that I wish 
to mention to the praise of God's sustaining grace. 
God had given us a darKng boy. For eleven short 
weeks we held the little treasure, and then our 
heavenly Father unwound the thousand little tendrils 
it had thrown around our hearts, and suddenly bore 
him away to bloom among the flowers of paradise, 
There is a flower called the night-blooming Cereus. 
About nine o'clock at mVht it besfins to unfold its 
petals, and continues expanding until midnight, 
when it appears one of the most lovely flowers ever 
beheld by mortal eye. From this time it gradually 
closes up, until at three o'clock it is completely hid 
in its foliage. So it was w^ith our little Charles 
Emory. We had but just looked upon his loveli- 
ness, when he passed forever from our sight. This 
w^as a great aflSiction to Mrs. Henry. Unconsciously 
she had made an idol of her babe. Let it ever be 
remembered, that our God is a jealous God, who 
never did, and never will make any compromise 
with an idol. Consequently one or the other must 
be given up. The crisis had come when the crown 
of perfect love must fall from the head of the mother, 
or the idol be turned out of the temple. God in 
mercy took the child, and stayed himself to comfort 
the broken-hearted mourner. When I lost my first 



LITE 01' G. W. HEIfRY. 



child, I murmured ; but I could say on tliis occasion, 
" The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; 
blessed be the name of the Lord." My dear wife 
too was brought to say, 

*' The dearest idol I have known, 

V7hate'er that idol be, 
Help me to tear it from thy throne, 

And worship oiily thee." 

Her heart was again cleansed from idols, and 
sprinkled with clean water. She shouted at the 
funeral. A wonderful peace flooded my soul. The 
little grave had no gloom. The clods of the valley 
falling on tlie httle narrow house, seemed like the 
bells of the new Jerusalem inviting us to the man- 
sion of light, whither he had fled. 

" I remember how I loved him when a little guiltless child 
I saw him in the cradle, as he look'd on me and smiled ; 
My cup of happiness was full, my joy words cannot tell, 
And I bless'd the glorious Giver, vvho doeth all things well. 

" Months pass'd : that bud of promise was unfolding every hour ; 
I thought that earth had never smiled upon a fairer flower ; 
So beautiful, it v/ell might grace the bower where angels dwell. 
And waft its fragrance to His throne, who doeth all things well. 

He was the lonely star vvhose light around my pathway shone, 
Amid the darksome vale of tears through which we journey on ; 
Its radiance had obscured the light which round the throne 
doth dwell, 

And I wandered far away, from Him who doeth all things well. 

*'That star went down in beauty, yet it shineth sweetly now, 
In the bright and dazzling coronet, that decks the Saviour's 
brow ; 

He bow'd to the destroyer, whose shafts none may repel. 
But we know, for God hath told us, he doeth all things well. 



2*1 B TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

" I rememter well my sorrow, as I stood beside his bed, 
And my deep and heartfelt anguish, when they told me he 
was dead ; 

And 0, that cup of bitterness ! — let not my heart rebel : 
God gave, he took, he will restore, he doeth all things well." 

So now, reader, I have told the birth and death 
of my httle boy ; but I do not ask your tears or 
sympathies. Although the blowing out of the little 
candle was taking light from a blind man's path, 
rem.oving the httle staff that he might have leaned 
upon as he went forth proclaiming a free and full 
salvation to wretched and dying men ; yet, what 
were all these advantages, compared with the jewel 
of perfect love ? The value of a thing must be es- 
timated not only by the first cost, but by what it 
costs to keep it. The price of salvation was nothing 
less than the blood of Jesus Christ. And he who 
thinks or imagines that a pure heart can be pre- 
served without daily sacrifices, perpetual watchful- 
ness, and unceasing prayer, will soon find that the 
blood of Jesus Christ must again be applied to 
cleanse from all sin. Many a man will steal your 
guineas, that would not touch your pennies. A 
.stranger may ask, as he beholds the marble edifice 
in the city, why those massive bolts and bars are 
sprung upon its doors and windows ? why those 
fiiithful sentinels march around, watching vnih 
eagle eye every hour in the night its avenues ? He 
will be told at once there is a great treasure within 
those walls, and they are afraid to trust even bolts 
and bars, without those living watchers. Even so, 



LIFE OF G. W. HS^^RY. 



2ld 



when Christ has cleansed your heart from every sin, 
and planted his own precious treasure there, do not 
think the danger is over. The banished enemy of 
your soul and his allies are well acquainted v;itli the 
avenues to the citadel from which they were so 
lately expelled ; and unless you watch unceasingly, 
looking to God for aid, you will certainly be over- 
come. Perhaps the battle has already been fought, 
and you " have overcome through the blood of the 
Lamb." Satan has seemingly fled from you, and 
you have stacked your arms, and flattered your soul 
that there was no more war in the land. But re- 
member, reader, that the old deceiver was never 
more deceitful than when he is seeking to rock you 
asleep in the cradle of self-indulgence ; and if you 
once fall asleep, he will be as careful about awaking 
you, as ever a burglar was about awaking the in- 
mates of the house he was robbino*. Do not foi-p^et, 
then, to watch ; and I pray God not only to sanctify 
you wholly, soul, body, and spirit, but to preserve 
you blameless unto his coming. " Faithful is he 
that calleth you, who also will do it." 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

The winter of 184 Y, 1848 w^as a season of blessed 
trials to me. They showed me how much I loved 
the ordinances of God and the haraionious sound 



280 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



of the gospel, by depriving me for a season of tlieir 
blessed enjoyments. While assisting my wife in 
wringing out some clothes which had been wadiad 
vith camphene, I took a violent cold. It resulted 
in rheumatic pains and deafness. For a few months 
it vras with difSculty I could walk across the floor, 
and besides I was really deaf. This was a great 
trial of my faith. I had become reconciled to blind- 
ness ; but now the question came, " Are you wilhng 
to have your ears sealed up until Gabriel shall blow, 
never more on earth to listen to nature's thrilling 
anthems — never more to be comforted by the sweet 
voices of wife, children, and friends — never moie 
to listen to the harmonious sound of the gospel? 
In addition to all this, are you willing to suffer with 
malignant rheumatic pains, threatening to disjoint 
the whole body This was the next thing to be- 
ing buried alive. 

I do beheve that I folded up my arms in re- 
signation, and said, from the bottom of my heart, 
^' Amen. Let my Father do what seemeth good in 
his sight" I do not think there was a shadow or 
a cloud permitted to darken the glory and munifi- 
cence of God from my ransomed soul. I still dwelt 
in Beulah. I had got beyond Doubting Castle, and 
I did not go back. 

Among the few resources that were left me, I 
found a well of hving water which I had dug and 
stored up in my time of health and hearing, like 
the little boy who had committed to memory part4 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



281 



of the sacred word. When his Catholic parents de- 
tected him, and burnt his Bible, he said, " You may 
take away my book, but I thank God you cannot 
t-ake from me the twenty chapters I have in my 
memory." So it was with me. Since I have been 
Wind, and while employed in making brushes for 
the support of my family, I have employed the 
little boys, hired to lead me about, in teaching me 
passages of Scripture, so that, at the time I am 
speaking of, I could repeat a hundred chapters, be- 
sides having a general acquaintance with the Bible. 
^N'ow I have my little Florence, eleven years old, and 
George Wesley, whose picture you see in the frontis- 
piece, for the light of my eyes. I do believe that 
the committing of the Scriptures to memory has 
been one of the principal stepping-stones by which 
I have entered into the audience-chamber of the 
Kinof of kinoes. Here is o;ood hvino-. To a soul 
fully redeemed, the Bible is no longer a dead letter. 
It becomes spirit and life. With what aridity does 
the lo^dng wife break the seal of the letter she re- 
ceives from her husband while he is in California, 
procuring riches for her comfort ! Y»^hen he spealis 
of his success in mining, what joy dances on her 
countenance ! Her eyes fill with tears of joy as she 
reads, " A little while, and he that shall come will 
come, and will not tarry." Reader, what is the 
cause of these transports of joy? Permit me to 
answer for you. She believes what she reads, and 
living, burning, realizing faith pours into the cofiers 



282 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



of the soul the substance of the thing hoped fD.r, a 
sure evidence that the unseen husband yet hves 
with the rich treasure, while she, with appropriating 

faith, says, My liusband, my gold. " All mine is j 

thine, and thine is mine.*' You see here how the I 

wife has a fellowship with her husband. The read- j 

ing that letter is with her the next thing to seeing | 
him face to face. You remember the letter sent to 
my mother with the intelligence of my conversion 

to God. She not only broke the seal and read the ' 
lines with more than a mother's joy, but she cai'iied 
it in her pocket, and every one that she met that 

loved Jesus, and knew what it was to rejoice with i 

angels and men over a repentant sinner, she would ^ 

take it out and read it to them. ^ 

In her conduct was displayed an exercise of per- . 

feet faiths She simply beheved, without a doubt^ ^ 

that the letter she held in her hand was not only \ 

the sentiment of her son, but that every word of it \ 

was true. It was to her reahty ; and it brought to j 

her sotil as much joy, perhaps, as if she had heard \ 
my Hps utter the truths it contained. 

Even so faith in spiritual things has destroyed , 

the deadness of the letter, and clothed with life ; 

the precious truths of God's word. The precious j 

promises, both in the Old and New Testament, ' 
breathe a precious assurance into my sotil that I 

shall shortly dwell where we shall have no need of ' 

the sun or the moon, for the glory of God is the : 

light of that place. Hallelujah to heaven's king! i 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



283 



Let me repeat to you again, reader, that committing 
tlie Bible to memory has been a wonderful help to 
me. Well might David say, " It is a light to our 
feet, a lamp to our path." How many times at 
midnight, when almost every lamp of earth is blown 
out, and nearly half the world are slumbering in the 
arras of Morpheus, I have taken out my Bible, 
which is engraven upon the tablets of my memor}^, 
and, like an old miser, souglifc to count up my 
riches. He reckons up his promissory notes, bonds 
and moi'tgages, and sets them down as so much 
casli, yet there is not one particle of cash about 
them. They are only promises to pay bim money 
at some future period. Great God, may I not have, 
as much faith in tlie promises, bonds and mortgages, 
written by the finger of God, confirmed by the oath 
of the Father, and testified to by the Holy Ghost, 
as a rich worldling has in his papers, or, rather, in 
the faithfulness and ability of those that have signed 
them ? Alas ! how often the Christian is rebuked 
by these words : " O ye of little fiiith 1" 

I have above told you of some blessed trials of 
my faith. The great Refiner walked with me 
through the furnace, tempering the heat as he saw 
T was able to bear it, bringing me through, like the 
three worthies, without the smell of fire on my gar- 
ments. The spring of 1848 found me in perfect 
health, soul and body. Mrs. Henry was at this 
time spiritually on Mount Pisgah. To pray, testify 
and exhort in the open courts of God's house, was 



2S4 



TRIALS AND TRIU^rPHS IX THE 



to her more than her meat and drink. God, in hv. 
"wisdom, made known his power in the use of i 
weak, ti-embhng woman ; but while she dehghtec 
in all the ordinances of the Lord, the hand of afflie 
tion was snd^^i:^' laid upon her. She was seized 
with a bronchial uzi::k'Yi. vrhich. from that time tr 
this, has prevented her i'rc'm prayiiio; in an audiblt ' 
voice. ■ CataiTh and sj^inal-an^ction setting in abou 
the same time, altogether produced the m>jst sensi 
tive nervous debility. Perhaps no form of disease 
is so trying, so weai'ino' out tC' sotil and b-jdy, as tlii: 
last mentioned. But if there were never any sick 
we sh<:^:l 1 liiv^ w little abc'Ut the skill of the physi 
clan, or ... . a_..ue of his re: Evcn so. if ther(. 
were no sorrow and trouble to be borne, where woulc 
be the test of our Chiistian graces In my sutier- 
mg companion, gi'ace found a subject • wherein tc 
magnify the power and merc^v of God. For mor. 
than a year sore disease and extreme pain seemec 
to be letting her down, step by step, into the cole 
waves of Jordan. The pain in her head seemed sc 
to derange her thoughts, that she was only capablt 
of one or two forms of ejaculatory prayer, such as ; 
''Lord, sanctify this affliction;*' or, -Thy wiU be' 
done.*' Her nerves were so sensitive that the rattling 
of a newspaper would gi*eatly distress her. The phy- ■ 
sicians and neighbours thought she must die, bull 
I could never be brought to believe it. Thei'e wai i 
something that whispered within that my Susp-h; 
would yet be raised up. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRr. 



235 



My neighbours sometimes amused themselves 
\mth. what they considered my groundless faith. 
'Under these circumstances I one day ascended the 
ladder leading to the garret of my cabin, where I 
|,had just room to kneel down ; and if any man on 
[eai-th ever got a direct answer from a telegTaph, 
I think I received one from the throne above con- 
x-erning my wife. When I came down stairs I told 
sjier she migh-t look for a change in her condition 
t^liortly. 

/! The sam.e evening, about dark, the family found 
:ijier speechless, with one half her person, from head 
-io foot, cold and stiff. She believed herself dying ; 
:and as she reflected that she was only a step from 
Ithe kingdom of glory, the flood-gates of grace were 
t'^aised upon her sonl ; and though she had not been 
:able to speak a loud word for some vv^eeks, she now 
rlfehouted, " Glory ! glory ! glory 1" so that she might 
"lave been heard in the streets. Every earthly in- 
jirmity seemed to be swept overboard by the flood 
;|)f glory which poured upon her m copious efi'usions. 
iChe vrhole room seemed to be lit up with the glory 
M God. 

The doctor was soon called, and ordered her a 
jittle wine. She rephed that she expected soon to 
:'.rink of the fruit of the living \dne in her Father's 

lingdom. The doctor was a full-blooded sceptic, 
i^nd, like the ancient Pharisee, had never seen any- 
!-;iiing of that fashion before. Doubtless he little 

Expected, whea he was called in to administer medi 

1 



286 TRIALS AKD TRIUMPHS IN THE 

cine to his patient, to have an exhortation poured 
on to him ; but upon him the great work began. | ^ 
and for weeks she exhorted saint and sinner as iheyi 
daily entered her room. That voice and throat ! 
which, for months previous, were scarcely able tci " 
utter a word, were now audible and strong. i 

She believed that she had now received the ful- : 
ness of the blessing of the gospel of peace. Grace \ : 
had loosed the last earth-bound tie, and she- 
seemed to be like a good saint who took her pass-, i 
port to glory not long since. Consumption had i 
gradually consumed Jier until her feet stood in the 
w^aters of Jordan. Her husband and six children, k 
gathered around her dying-couch to receive hei: it- 
blessing, and give the last farewell. She first thre^v -. 
her arms around her beloved husband, exhorted hinr it 
to meet her in heaven, kissed him, and gave him to ^\ 
God. Then taking the oldest child, and from himi i 
down to the little babe, she bade them all farewell,: d! 
and left them in the hands of God ; then folding up 
her arms and closing her eyes, she said, " 'Sow 1 
have nothing to do but die." She lay still and silent 
for a few moments, when a sunbeam of glory 
seemed to illuminate her features, and she clapped 
her hands and shouted, " They 're coming ! they 're 
coming ! and our little Willie is with them, and 
how beautiful he looks !" and thus, Avith an escort 
of angels, she went home. 

Mrs. Henry felt that she had nothing to do but 
die. Her only disappointme-nt was that she did not 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



287 



jliear the rumbling of the chariot wheels sent to beai 
^aer ransomed soul to mingle ^yith the company of 
just men made perfect. 'Never did she view her- 
i^<elf as nothing but dust and ashes until now. She 
-ften remarked that she felt like a Httle worm 
:i'jawling upon the floor, every moment subject to 
?e crushed. 

! Pov/er seemed to be given her in her weakness, 
3 that the story of the love of Jesus to sinners, and 
.'hat he had done for her poor soul, seemed to 
lake everything quake. She seemed to have been 
lade perfect through suffering. She had gone out 
: herself, and was hid with Christ in God. At this 
?oint, I discovered that she had passed me on the 
Hce-course, although she started about a year after 
he. I now plainly saw her some distance in the 
] Ivance in full stretch for the crown. I had no de- 
re to hold her by the skirt, but have been trying 
ith all my might to overtake her. But if I do not, 
still say to her, 

" If you get there before I do, 
j Look out for me, I'm coming too." 



I CHAPTER XXV. 

» the fall of 1848, Rev. Jesse Penfield being about 
(iclose up his labom-s on tMs circuit, God put it into 

1i heart to raise a Methodist chapel m Frankfort 
n 

I 

J 



288 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

To all appearance this might have staggered th(. 
faith of Abraham: but with God imTDossible thino' 

i o 

become possible. The attempt vras made, and ii 
February, 1S49, a beautiful brick church was dedi 
cated to Almighty God. by Eev. B. J. Diefendorf, tibei 
presiding elder on that district. A protractet 
meeting was then commence^;! in the Baptist ani 
Methodist Churches. The battle now began in goo( 
«?arnest ; the powers of darkness gave way, and 
glorious revival followed in both Churches. Frant; 
fort in a measure seemed to be redeemed. ho^: 
good it is to hold on to the arm of the Lord an . 
wait patiently lot him I The blind man's cottag 
could not novv- hc'LI a tenth paj't of tne lovei-s o 
praver-meetings, where', for six yeai's i^reviuus. the 
would not average t^^n p^^rsons, including all dtnou 
inations. I was deprived of h^raring the dedicatio. 
sermon, as dtuy and atTectiLUi kept me by the bee 
side of mv siitf-il;: -;^ -''-u"" uu'n : btu in the evenin. 

I had the L:c ^ A . i: u o:- br-ther "V\>atr.., 

His subject was the great feast w ^- 
had prepared for the souls of them th.^t 1 vo hir 
I v, ih assure you I opened my moudn vLlc as tb 
Lord had commanded me, and my s^utl partoc 
heartily of the solids as well as the liuids that hi 
saw plainly spread out before me, — not only t 
things full of mai'i'O^-', but wine as pure and effervt: 
cent as that drawn from the water-pots at the wcl 
ding in Galilee. As I arose, after the sermon, 
express my gratitude to God for what he had dor 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



289 



and what lie was about to do for sinners in Frank- 
fort, I took so large a draught of this wine that 
I reeled and fell under its power ; and I have 
scarcely drawn a sober breath since. It was the 
same kind of wine that the disciples drank on tlie 
day of Pentecost, when they were accused by the 
multitude of being drunk. AVine, here, is a symbol 
of the Holy Sph'it, and any man that has ever 
been intoxicated by the madeira and champagne 
of this world, and also that of the kingdom of gTace, 
v/ill see a forcible and strildiig simihtude between 
them. It is with shame that I confess that I have 
more than once been stago-ering drunk on the wine 
of this world. But I rejoice to say that I have since 
that time drank to intoxication of that which Hows 
fi'om Christ the liviuo' vine. Theref:!re I speak 
what I know I ^ : :e. But l>^t i; 'y: ^ : the 
analogy ; and to make ii plainer permii me to relate 
one or two circtimstances of my shameftil experience 
while dv>-elling in the land of Egypt. "When I was 
engaged in btisiness at the South, and especial I v 
on the Alleghany Motmtains, it was a ctistom for liio 
lawyers, doctors, engineers, and contracieTS, and a 
hke quahty falsely called gentlemen, to have occa 
sionally a venison dinner, with sumptuous trim- 
mings and sparkling wines. You see novr, at two 
o'clock, twenty lashionable well-dressed men, who, 
fi'om their conversation and genei-ai deportment, 
give every appearance of gentlemen in the true 
sense of the vrord. We will n.ow close the door 
19 



290 TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS i:-7 THE 

Upon tliem, and at >ix o'Jook we a^-'-ain ii 
the dining room. Th-v ; ^1 :],er.r : hut tli^ir < 
der and d^cLTum La. : _ out. and confiisi 
roigns am^jng tiiem. (Jn-r man :s sran^'^'a^'* '^-n t 
table snouting Shakspeare : anodier is oraLrdng 
^^^^^^irh. and osten-aiion^iy oispiaving Ins bon 
ana bank notes : another is h-:ns:ino- ci his nedio;r(; 
his nobie ancestry. One man i- -.-mrin- proiaiiel; 
anotlier laughing, ready lo .pht his sidos at eve 
&iib- r.un-rk he heai's. By his side, his fellow 
or\mg. an ;] inj .:ne kn.:ov> r.r (;ar-- aiojut the caus 
<jne uf tlie nund.er is bauL-hig a:^ m.na'ily as a Ior 
^vhiie at hrs i^et lies caie as insensible as a mumm 



■U V-' 



r as y^'^^i o'::-;e- at tIi-^h men. in tl' 
midsi -f broken gb.: -- .:ol np-:a tab!^., and as 
the ho>t the c;iuse oi this great chano-e Avrono-1 
m them in the shm't -yo^,. rf y.^v hr.-r>. B 
y^y^ tinit rh^y Tveo? nn-b^r the inbnmce c 
wine, that is, th^y v^ov- tilled with tii.^ ^ihrit r 
wine. Ynii ^vill a-k Ijim ae ^b f tl, 

diiierent condnct exhibited in '.i...c:c;n n. inodua- 
He will perhaps teil you that the wine atbt^ets a 
p"' : ^^y^dbr, but no two ahke : and that th 
t^^^^ '' -i drn.onstration is varied according to th 
natural bent and disposition of the partaker. 

Reader, please take my arm, and o-o wirii nn? i 
an ancient house in Jerusalem. See thej e in a 
upper chamber one hundred and twentv disoipk-, 
all very grave and sober men and women. Twelv 
of tliem are the chosen ap?stlos of Jesus. Amon; 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



29l 



,ie sisters, is Mary the mother of the Saviour, 
they are quietly praying and conversing together, 
jl^e will close the cloor, and after three hours, or 
'^out the ninth hour, Ave will look in again upon 
jke same individuals. How are they now ? Are 
'key all sitting quietly on their seats? 0, no! 
jjiere was a noise, and that so great, so loud and 
range, that it was heard throughout the city : so 
|at a great multitude of the curious gathered about 
l|e doors, as theyliave often done on similar occa- 
^pns. You hear now^ not only one individual, but 
jie whole congregation, audibly and earnestly talk- 
jg at once, and in fourteen different languages, and 
L^e sacred historian tells us that they were all talking 
I the wonderful works of God, and that they were 
|. filled with the Holy Ghost ; or he might have 
|id they were filled with the wine of the kingdom, 
i ; it was, the scoffing multitude came to the con- 
1 mon that they were all drunk. And when we 
,i m to the history of the last century, and read of 
I B multitudes that shouted, reeled, stao-o-ered, and 
to the ground as dead men under the preaching 
^^a Wesley, Fletcher, Whitefield, Christmas Evans, 

bbott, and others, and add to that our own experi- 
^ :3e and observation for the last ten years at camp- 

petings and other places, we know of no better 
^^jiiclusion that a sober dispassionate unconverted 
^ jkltitude could arrive at than to say they were all 

. ank ; for I do know by observation and experi- 
"jpe, that the outward manifestations of the two 

I 



202 



TRIALS AND TEIUMPHS IX THE 



kinds of wine bear a striking analogy; and I do 

not wonder that the prophets and the apostles made 
choice of wine as a symbol or comparison to 
trate the operations of the Holy Spirit. But Pct^i', 
standing np, denies the charge of their being drimk, 
and then goes on to explain to the multitude the 
cause of the noise and seeming confusion. He 
might liave said it was estimate-day or pay-day; 
that Jehovah had just cashed a bond which he had 
caused to be executed a few hundred years previous 
by Jeremiah, one of his clerks ; or, in the language 
of Scripture, I will pour out oi my Spirit or 
wine "upon my servants and handmaids, and they 
shall prophesy ;'' or, in other words, that was the 
set day when more than three thousand new bottles 
or souls should be filled with new wine or the 
champagne of the kingdom. 

So, my dear long-faced, sober-sided, fault-finding 
reader, when you go to another camp-meL-tino-^ 
where five hundred of God's people have met 
together with one accoi'd in one place, and yr.u see 
them all upon their knees, calling upon their 
heavenly Host that they may be filled with the 
Spirit, do not be surprised if, after a while, you see 
])rother Henry leaping, laughing, and falling down; 
another shouting ; the third pointing to his bonds 
and mortgages in the old record, and tehing how 
rich he is ; while near by a hoary-headed old father, 
with patches on his knees, boasts of his pedigree, 
tracing his ancestry back to the Ancient of Days, 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



2S3 



producing liis evidence tliat God was his father and 
Jesus Christ his elder brother. At a httle distance 
you will see a good sister melted into tears, while a 
holy, reverential awe broods over her in silence ; by 
her side lies one insensible, while the whole five 
hundred rejoice together in hopes of the glory of 
God. You now turn and ask me the cause of all 
these exhibitions of joy ? Permit me to ansv\'er you, 
in the language of your bar-room host : " They aro 
all filled with the Spirit." 

I should be glad if I had space to make a few 
selections, backing up this truth, not only from 
sacred history, but also from the history of the 
Church during modern reformations. But I must 
pass them by, and conclude this too lengthy chap- 
ter by giving you two recipes — one that will efiec- 
tually cure you from fault-finding, and the other to 
cure the people of God from shouting. They are a 
sovereign remedy. Perhaps a httle incident in my 
own experience may better convey my meaning. 
About the year 1836, while living in Frankhn 
County, Pa., business placed me in a stage-coach to 
go to Harrisburg, a distance of about forty miles. 
About twelve o'clock at night the driver stopped at 
a hotel in the village of Carlisle, a few rods from 
Dickinson College. While changing horses I roused 
from a stupor, and half-awake, and not very good- 
natured, went into the bar-room, where at once my 
ears were saluted with shouts, songs, speechifying, 
loud laughter, and not a httle systematical swearing. 



294 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



The noise proceeded from a large parlour in a dis- . 
tant part of the hotel. I well understood the cause./ 
I suppose it was something like the noise thai ■ 
Moses and Joshua heard, as they came down froiu 
the mountain, from a certain party, dancing and 
shouting around a golden calf. But I had not beer 
there long before the parlour-door opened, and it 
was no sooner known by the revellers that Captain 
Henry was in the house than a fragment of the 
party caught me by the collar, and, in spite of all 
expostulations, precipitated me into the midst of a 
23arty of drunken collegiates and other like com- 
panions. Unaer those circumstances, I j^resume, 
T felt very much like an unconverted man, looking 
on, while the power of God is displayed like a tor- 
nado in the forest, waving one tree top into the 
arms of another, and occasionally tearing up a 
stately oak by the roots, bringing it headlong to the 
gTound. They appeared to me like a set of fools. 
Their general conversation and performance seemed 
ridiculous in the extreme. The stage now went off 
without me. I began to pour down the wine, and 
in half an hour I could laugh and make speeches* 
with the best of them. I saw no impropriety in 
anything that was going on. Here, reader, is your 
recipe. When you get tired of heariug your breth- 
ren shout, hearken to the invitation of the proph-* 
et, to come and buy this wine, and let your soul 
delight itself with its dehcious influences. Let your 
soul be filled to the brim with this pure wine of the 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



295 



•ifeingdom; and if it does not cure your croaking 
iind fault-finding about the brethren and sisters 
jphouting and making such a noise and confusion, 
jjrou ma}^ set it down for a certainty that you have 
Ijiot a genuine article. The second recipe is an 
bffectual cure for shouting, leaping, falling with the 
l|)ower, &c. Take a quantity of backbiting, croak- 
•kig, idle words, superfluity of dress, anger, self- 
, ighteousness, mix them well together in a powder, 
Ijind wash it down with a hearty draught of rum, 
i^randy, or whisky, and, my word for it, you will 
aot be troubled with spiritual ecstasy. But, before 
. close this subject, I wish to say I can tell the read ■ 
j^r by experience — by sad as well as joyous expeiieuce 
—that the consequences resulting from the use of 
[,[he two articles are as unlike as heaven and hell. 
■ The wine of this wwld leaves a man with a 
keadache, heartache, remorse and rags, and the 
|inger of God hath written, "No drunkard shall 
liherit the kingdom of God.'' Consequently, the 
tndying soul will dwell forever in eternal darkness 
I vith distillers, rumsellers, hypocrites, dogs and 
I'Orcerers, and every species of evil-doers. While 
he wine that flows freely from Christ, the living 
fine, will give peace, like a river, and the ultimate 
)Oon will be glory, honour, im. mortality and eternal 
jfe through Jesus Christ our Lord. One will pro- 
cure for you the torments of hell, the otlier the rest 
i)f heaven. Reader, the two ciq^s are hdove you. 
May God help you to make a wx>e ijiiuice. Ai4ie^, 



296 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPPIS IN THE 



"GOOD MORNING, BROTHER PILGRIM !" 

The following is tlie substance of a conversation hetioeen lwo\ 
jyyofessors as they met ; one going to, the other returning f-om^ 
camp-meetmg, early in the morning. 

" Good morning, brother pilgrim I 

What, marching to Zion ? 
What doubts and what dangers have you met to-day? 

Have you found a blessing ? 

Are your joys increasing? 
Press forward, my brother, and make no delay. 

Is your heart a glowing? 

Are your comforts flowino:? 
And have you an evidence now bright and clear? 

Have you a desire 

That burns like a fire ? 
And have hope in the hour w^hen Christ shall appear?*' 

" I came out this morning, 

And now am returning, 
Perhaps little better than when I first came ; 

Such groaning and shouting, 

It sets me to doubting, 
I fear such religion is all like a dream. 

The preachers were sta.mping. 

The people were jumping. 
And screaming so loud that I neither could hear 

Either praying or pi^eaching ; 

Such horrible screeching, 
'T was truly offensive to all that were there." 

" Perhaps, my dear brother, 

While they pray'd together. 
You sat and consider'd, and pray'd not at all ; 

Would you find a blessing ? 

Then 'pray loithout ceasing, 
Obey the advice which was given by Paul. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



For if you should reason 

At any sucli season, 
No wonder if Satan should tell in your ear : 

* The preachers and people 

Are all but a rabble, 
And this is no place for reflection and prayer.' " 

. ^ No place for rejiection !^ 

I'm fiU'd with distraction, 
I wonder the peoi)le could bear for to stay ; 

The men they were bawling, 

The women were squalling, 
I wonder, for my part, how any could pray. 

Such horrid confusion, 

If this be religion, 
Sure it is something new that has never been seen ; 

For the sacred pages 

Which speak of all ages. 
Do nowhere declare that such ever has been.'* 

** Don't be so soon shaken ; 

If I 'm not mistaken, 
Such things have been acted by Christians of old : 

When the ark it was coming, 

King David came running, 
And danced before it, in Scripture we're told. 

When the Jewish nation 

Had laid the foundation. 
And rebuilt the temple, by Ezra's command, 

Some wept and some praised, 

Such a noise there was raised, 
'T was heard afar off, perhaps all through the land. 

" And as for the preacher, 

Ezekiel the teacher 
Was taught for to stamp, and smite with his hand ; 

To show the transgression 

Of that wicked nation, 
And bid them repent and obey the command. 



2D8 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THK 



For Scripture quotation 

In tills dispensation, 
Our gracious Redeemer has lianded them down ; 

If some ceased from praising, 

We hear him proclaiming, 
The stones to reprove them would quickly cry out." 

" Then Scriptui'e is wrested ; 

For Paul has protested 
That order should be kept in the house of the Lord ; 

Amidst such a clatter 

Who knows what's the matter ? 
Or who can attend unto what is declared ? 

To see them behaying 

Like drunkards or ravinGr, 
And lying and rolling prostrate on the ground ; 

I really felt awful, 

And sometimes was fearful 
That I 'd be the next to come tumbling down." 

" You fear persecution, 

And there's the delusion, 
Brought in by the devil to draw you away ; 

Be careful, my brother. 

For blest are none otlier 
But such as are never oil^'ended in nie." 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

The spring of 1849 found my prospects, temporal 
and spiritual, brightening. I still continued selKng 
books. My wife's bealtli continuing feeble, we 
broke up keeping house, she going to Litchfield to 
board with her children, and I to New-York to at- 



LIFE OF G. HEXRY. 



299 



tend tlie great book-auction. One Sabbath morn- 
ing while in New- York, I went to the Blind In- 
stitute. I was not a stranger to them, for I had 
been there the year before with the Httle book con- 
taining the history of my hfe. The superintendent 
purchased one, and it was read to the pupils gener- 
ally, so that by this time we felt like old acquaint- 
ances, and, I presume, I shall never forget in time 
or eternity the glorious class-meeting I had the first 
Sabbath I had the happmess of meeting with those 
labouring under like infirmities with myself. The 
class met at nine o'clock in the morning. There 
were about thirty persons pi-esent, including various 
denominations. They were in a square room, with 
a row of benclies around the wall. I was requested 
to lead the class. I presumie I have been called 
upon to lead nearly one hundred difiereiit cl hisses, 
and I do not believe that I ever led a class that liad 
so fair a \aew of the eternal city as this. Class was 
^ opened by two or three fervent prayers, and then they 
struck up, " Come, thou Fount of every blessino-," 
■ and there was so much spirit and glory in it that it 
1 seemed as if I had never heard it before. The music 
j of a score of Jenny Linds would have sounded fiat 
i in comparison with this spiritual choir. The blind 
[ inmates had all been well instructed in singhig, 
J from the little child to the adult. When the time of 
preaching came, if ever I was prepared to let down 
; the gospel-net, it was then. Thei'e was quite a con- 
1; course or people from, the city, and, as they all aros^ 



300 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN TIIE 



to sing, in unison with their tremendons organ, one 
might almost be persuaded that the choir which the 
revel ator saw had descended from above, the num- 
ber of which was " ten thousand times ten thousand 
and thousands of thousands." It w^as evident, how- 
ever, that it was not the €ong of the angelic band ; 
for Vvhile the angels sing, " Worthy is the Lamb 
that was slain," the poor, the lame, the halt, and the 
blind sing on the higher hey : Unto him that 
loved us, and hath redeemed us to God by his blood 
out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and 
nation, and hatli made us kings and priests ; and we 
shall reign on the earth." This text, with all its glo- 
rious and exalted privileges, I once placed bey ond 
Joj'dan ; but since I came into the land of Beulah, 
faith has brought it over on this side, and I am now 
preaching, singing, and living, every sentence and 
syllable, through rich abounding grace. If we are 
not to sing tlie song of redemption this side of Jor- 
dan, I fear we shall never sing it. If we are not to 
reign as kings and priests on the earth — that is, put 
every spiritual foe under our feet — I fear we shall 
never do it. (rlory be to God ! the door of heaven 
is opened, and the heavenly treasure unlocked to 
our view while here on earth. One would suppose 
the very music of the sons and daughters of God 
would be enougli to win every soul to Christ. 

]3ut tliere are men that will give hundreds of 
dollars for a ticket to a Jenny-Lind concert, thai; 
would not bend the knee to Christ for a ticket ih^\ 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRr. 



301 



would place in their hands a golden harp, and give 
^ them a seat with heaven^s choir at God's right 
,hand. 0. Lord, pity them that are so blind to their 
(iown happiness I I am reminded here of a little cir- 
icumstance that occurred not long since. I had 
often thought that I would like to procure one of 
David's harps, and learn to play on it, supposing it 
I 'Would cost about hfty dollars. It so happened that 
!t|a company of musicians, who had one of these 
jhiarps, put up for the night in my neighbourhood. 
Ice went over and inquired the price of one, and was 
j'itold it would cost from three to five hundred dollars. 
' This decided the matter that I should never have 
'lione on earth ; but that moment the Spirit raised up 
j'ii standard, and encouragingly said, "Child, your 
] Father has got a golden hai'p laid up for you in 
Ifelory;" and faith seemed to lend her realizing 
I' sight, so that I could almost la}' my hand upon it. 
'jMy soul at once filled up with glory ; and, as I con- 
Ijtrasted the two harps, the heavenly one looked so 
'; glorious that it made the earthly one appear of as 
attle value as a child's whistle. 
I Let us seek the things that are above, for it is 
I our privilege to have the glorious city plainly in 
view as we journey through this vale of tears. But 
I j!et us go back to the Bhnd L:istitute. My subject 
r tvas the resurrection of the body, when these earthly 
■ aouses, with every window destroyed, and walls 
^llilapidated and ruined by the Ml, should be raised 
. Morions in holiness and divinely beautiful, as it Li 



302 THIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



VvTitten : " Behold he cometh Tvith clouds, and even i 
eye shall see him, and they also which pierced him.' i 
Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth [- 
not yet appear what we shah be, but we knovr tha l. 
when he shall appear we shall be hke him, for we 
shall see him as he is." AYhat a glorious an<.i i 
heart-cheering subject for a blind preacher to hok ::' 
up to a bhnd audience 1 O, my soul, be not cas i 
dov>'n ; hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise hin. 
wlio is the light of my countenance and niy chiei 
joy I'' In my intercourse with the poor and the 
L)Hnd. I have come to the conclusion that the poe i:'- 
Tas not extravagant when he said, -i 

Eartli lias no soitov>-3 that Heaven cannot cure.'* 

It is but a f-'vr hours since an unbelieving, but kind 
hearted man, after bestowing upon me a smal 
favour, expressed his cheerfulness to do so as In 
looked upon my infirmities, remarking at tin 
same time that he supposed if I had a million of 
dollai's I would give it for the restoration of my 
sight. I nnide no rei)lv ; but I certaink/' did thinl 
then, as I think now, that I would not stand in hi- 
shoes, or those of an}- other unbeheving man in spirit- ; 
ual blindness, twenty-four hours, foronemilhon of dol 
lai's, and run the dreadful hazard of being suddenh | 
called to setik^ my great account. So there wa^| 
syiMpathy on both sides. Before taking leave ot 
my blind com]:)anians, I wish to relate a word oi] 
two concerning their Sabbath .school. At thre^. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



803 



I'o'clock in the afternoon, one liundred and thirty-fivo 
^;teachers and pupils met to engage in reading, re- 
,-citing, and explaining tlie Bible; and little blind 
"Icbildren not six years of age knew more about tbe 
IBible than I did at forty. Humiliating as is this 
Iconfession, no doubt there are thousands now strut- 
.tins: in their silks and broadcloths totally ioiiorant 
.of themselves, their Bible, and their God. Here is 
m blindness that may be felt; while heaven and 
iog-lory shine around the pathway of thousands that 
:!&re naturally blind, but, having an eye single to the 
^io-lory of God, their whole body is full of light. They 
|iiare children of the day, and they have no occasion 
'(for stumbling. So farewell, my blind companions, 
1^11 we hail each other on the banks of the promised 
Inland, and sing hallelujah to God for fi'ee grace ! 



CHAPTER XXVIL 

the above chapter you recollect that I told you 
lot my engagedness in selling books here. I began 
^if^ tremble, feaiing that through the deceitfulness of 
■ igain, thorns and briers might spring up in the garden 
jof my soul, and choke the precious fruit. But God 
i|lgave me strength according to my day, and I was 
;ti3nabled to keep the world in its right place. I 
[|(9ndeavoured to take up every cross, warning and 
^exhorting every man that I had any dealing with, 



304 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



and seeking to spread Scriptural holiness over tlie 
land, while a door of iitterfince was opened ever^ 
Sabbatli for me to preach the unsearchable riches 
of Christ. About this time Charles Wendall, a little 
boy of tliirteen that I employed to lead me, was 
converted to God, m a powerful class-meeting at 
brother Benjamin Harter's. I think I never saw a 
clearer or sounder conversion. This v/as the third 
boy that had been converted vrhile leading me. 
This w^as a glorious year to my soul. I^Jrs. Henry 
was at this time boarding at brother Champion's, in 
Litchfield. You will recollect the account given in 
a former chapter of her sickness, and the display of 
God's power m bestowing upon her the fulness of 
the blessing of the gospel of peace. Her infirmities 
were still perpetuated, so that from that time she 
has been in a very feeble state. But as the apostle 
exhorts us to sanctify the Lord God in our hearts, 
and be ready always to give every man that asks 
us a reason of the hope that is in us with meekness 
and fear, we will let sister Henry speak for herself, 
by inserting here a diary of two or three weeks, kept 
until her" health failed, and she v^as obhged to lav 
down the pen. This, perhaps, will be a fair sample 
of her faith and its effects down to the present time. 

July 8th. — I have been able to rejoice to-day in 
tlie God and Eock of my salvation. Tbis morning 
I conversed with a sister, whose heart is panting 
aftx3r lioliness. Tried to give her some light; told 
her how the Lord had led me out into the ocean of 



LIFS OF G. W IIEXRY. 



his love, and tliat I now felt as if swimming in a 
flood of glory. As I was conversing with lier she 
was sent for. She sc^ive me a pressing invitation to 
come and see her, as she wanted to learn more about 
this highway of holiness, and requested an interest 
in my prayers. I lent her a book on holiness, 
praying that God would bless lier in reading it, 
and let her into the liberty of the gospel. This 
evening called to see a stranger, who is not a professor 
of religion. When I stepped over the threshold 
of the door, I prayed that God would direct me to 
warn her to flee from tlie wrath to come. In reply 
to my inquiries she remarked that she had thought 
some upon the subject, and would try to get ou^ 
to church. 

My aim and object is to be of some use while I 
stay here below ; and I pray God that I may ever 
let my hght shine, and never seek to conceal what 
great things God has done for me. 
! July 9ih. — Had a good time in sec vet prayer ; 
felt the whispering of the Spirit bearing vvitness with 
mine that I was a child of God and an heir of 
heaven. Blessed be tlie name of the Lord for faith, 
t which is an anchor to the soul, both sure and stead- 
fast, that entereth within the veil. 

July 10 tL — Have had a good day; feel that 
Christ reigns without a rival. Blessed be the name 
l of the Lord for this highway of hohness, cast up 
I for the redeemed of the Lord to walk in. Felt 
jhumbled in the dust this evening while convei'sing 



30G 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



with a Methodist exhorter, who professes sanctifit 
tion. I told liim of my enjoyments — that I felt . 
willing to suffer with Christ as to reign with hi] 
He said he thought I enjoyed more of a fulnt ' 
than he did.- Instead of lifting me up it humbl 
me in the dust. that the Lord may keep me,- 

"Lo^v down in this beautiful Yallej, 
Where love crowns the meek and the lowly— ] 
"Where loud storms of envy and folly \ 
May roll on their billows in vain." 

Juli/ lltk. — Feel a peace this morning, and nj 
prayer is, that love may ever drive my chariot whee i 
Satan laboureth in nothing more than to keep 
in unbelief, especially of particular promises ; for ! 
knows if we believe them we shall in all things ha 
tlie 'dctory. Let us come before God vntli boldne; 
claiming every promise as ours. O the abundan 
of sweet cordial comfort which all humble believe 
di-aw by faith out of every promise ! 

July 12th. — Feel weak in body, but the soul fee 
strong in the God and Rock of my salvation, 
know that whenever this earthen vessel is dashed 
pieces my soul has a home in heaven. I feel tl • 
morning that T can read my title clear to mansio ) 
in the sky. O how inspiring it is to look away , 
that blessed country, and think of the society 
shall have there ! There are the holy angels, t 
blessed prophets, th-o triumphant apostles, the v l 
torious martyrs, and all the host of the redeems I 
these will be my companions forever. I, even i 



1 LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 307 

^liall mount the upper sky, having on a robe of 
•righteousness, with the pahn of \-ictor3^ in my liand, 
|Lncl, as I cast my glittering crown at the feet of my 
!:^edeemer, there shall be a golden harp given me, 
jind I shall be pei-mitted to join with the\eavenlv 
|ost in glorifying God and singing, Hallelnjah ! the 
.ord God Omnipotent reigneth. Blessing, honour, 
•lory, and power be unto him that sitteth upon the 
arone and unto the Lamb forever ! 
' ^^^^y ISi'A.— I feel hke calhng upon all within 
fie to praise and adore the name of tlie Lord. The 
Irayer of my heart is, that I may be ever clothed 
|ith humility ; Ibr God rcsisteth the proud, but 
'tveth grace to the huntble. 

I "A broken heart, my Goil and King, 

Is all the sacrilk-e I briu"- ; 
The God of grace will ne'er despise 
A broken heart for sacritice." 

o.dy 15 /A.— Feel that Jesus is mmc, a- \ " - 
is ; went up to the house of the Lord yestor^: . ai. 1 

ard brother Jerome preach his flirewell sei'inon! 
h text was in 2 Ccjiinthians xiii, 11 : "Finallv, 
ethren, farewell. Be perfect, Lo of good comfort,' 

of one mmd, hve in peace ; and the God of love 
d peace shall be with you." Had a glorious time ; 
.3 Lord was there. Two sisters were struma lir.o- 
^ the blessing of perfect love. One said she felt 

it she could almost touch the hem of Chjist's 
J^ment, but unbelief seemed to keep them both 
I^Y. My prayer is, that the Lord may beat back 



808 



TRIALS A^'D TRIUMPHS IN THE 



the power of unbelief and let them into perfect, 
liberty. 

July 16ih. — After retiring to rest last night was 

favoured with an extraordinary display of divine' 

grace. I felt to rejoice that the Lord reigned, 

that Jesus was exalted far above principalities and 

povrers. This morninc^ am very weak in body, l)ut 

feel that I can do all things through Christ, who 

strengthenetli me. 

"I can do all tliijigs, or can bear 
All suflerings if my Lord be there ; 
Sweet pleasure mingles with tlie paLiis, 
"While his right hand my head sustains." 

O what a blessed thing it is to lose oiu' will in 
God's ! Since I lost my will I have foimd happiness. 
There can be no stich thing as disappointment to me, 
for I have no desire but that God's will may be 
accomphshed. Blessed be the name of the Lord ! 

Juhj llth,—! feel to rejoice this morning with 
jov unspeakable and full of glory. O how sweet j 
it is to sit at the feet of Jesus ! In his presence is[ 
fulness of joy ; at his right hand there are pleasures 
forever more. For me to live is Christ, and to die 
is gain. 

He bids his angels pitch their tents 
Round where his children dwell ; 
^YhRt ills their heavenly ca.re prevents 
Xo earthly tongue can tell." 

Jidj/ iSth. — I feel that if I live for God nothing 
shall be Jost. I shall have full measure, pressed 
down and punniup- over. Thousands of years in 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. o09 

j' paradise for the least good tliouglit, and tlipiisauds 
j| of thousands for the least good woid; and the 
ireckonino- shall beoin ao-ain, for I shall be swallowed 
[up in a blessed eternity, and the door of heaven 
j shall be shut upon me, and there shall be no more 
ji going out. 

;'. Thus ends this short diary of a feeble woman, 
(fwalkiug and talking with God, Enoch-like, having 
the testimony that she pleased God, and in this 
one point is embraced the great duty of religion, 
jthat we please God, and not ourselves or our fellow- 
'men. Such a soul is trulv travellino; in the land of 
Beulah, like a youthful bride rejoicing in the smiles 

Df the bridegroom as she leans upon his almighty 
'irm, decked with the ornament of a meek and 
' juiet spirit, which, in the sight of the bridegroom, 
of gTeat value. Do not imagine, reader, that sister 

lenry had no fiery trials. If she should write the 
\istory of every day from that period up to tlie 

.n-esent, some of them would be well described in 

lie language of the Psalmist : " Deep calleth unto 
eep; all thy water-spouts have gone over me.*" 

] Yet she could say with the poet : — 

" In time of fear, Tvhen trouble 's near, 
I look to thine abode ; 
I Though helpers fail and foes prevail, 

I '11 put my trust in God. 

J *'In darkest skies, though storms arise, 

I will not be dismay'd ; 
I God of light and boundless might, 

I My soul on thee is stay'd." 

I 



310 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



CHAPTER XXYIII. 

I HAVE already spun out a much longer thread iri ' 
this supplementary narrative than I at first con- 
templated ; but I feel now as I do sometimes aftei 
having preached an hour. The harvest-field seems . 
to wave as the wind of the Spirit blows upon it, as ; 
if to beckon me on ; and I think I would like to cut 
another swath around the field, and gather a few ; 
more sheaves and bind them up for the barns of \ 
heaven, before I lay down the sickle. Even so; 
wdien I woukl lay down the pen, I have before mes 
the last two years of my life, more glorious than 
all the rest. 

It is true that the way of hohness grows narrow ei 
and brighter; and the farther we travel in it, the! 
more our happiness increases. In the course of my 
narrative, you have been with me to a great many 
camp-meetings. I vras justified and sanctified at a 
camp-meeting, and if it is the will of God I should - 
like to die on a camp-ground. Where could I find' 
a better place to lay down mj armour and take up 
my crown ? Yet if it is the will of God I had rather 
tarry a few years, that I may preach the gospel to 
the poor and forsaken. Probably more than half 
my labonrs, for the last few years, have been at the 
various county poor-houses ; and I do believe this 
day, shonld death overtake me, that if I have any ' 
honest and sincere friends, Avho would plant a rose 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



811 



upon my gravOj and mourn that I was gone, it 
would be some of my brethren and sisters from 
the poor-house. 

This would be a o-reater satisfaction to me than 
to receive the salary of a rich and w^orldly congrega- 
tion, who are saying within themselves, like an 
ancient backslidden Church, " I am increased in 
o'oods and have need of nothino;." 

I have often heard people remark, " What a pity 
that the county does not make some provision to 
pay for preaching the gospel to the poor." Dear 
reader, there are provisions made, and a fund set 
apart by the great Head of the Church far superior 
to any earthly treasure. 

My custom has been to go on Saturday night, 
have a prayer-meeting and a word of exhortation, 
and on Sabbath morning, immediately after breakfast, 
pass through all the rooms, and pray with the sick 
and the cripples. This vrill generally take about 
J two hours. Then we have a sermon and class- 
I meeting in the forenoon, preaching and prayer- 
; meetino' in the afternoon and evenino- makino- about 
1 nine hours of sweet labour in preaching and praying, 
I exhorting and singing. How glorious is the rest of 

i those who labour in the vineyard of the Lord ! now 
smooth the pillow, how delightful the night vision ! 

Then in the morning to pray with them and take 
^an aftectionate farewell, reminds one of the brethren 
l-weeping on the neck of Paul as he was about to go 
yito Jerusalem. 



Sl2 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



The blessings of tlie poor, mingied with the smiles : 
of God, are salary enough for me. I think I now 
fully understand what the apostle means by " being I 
]X)or, yet making many lich ; as having nothing, , 
yet possessing all things." I should like to tell you \ 
of some of the glorious scenes, the shouts of triumph ! 
that we have had at the poor-house. ! 

If a stranger were passing by he would suppose, \ 
and rightly too, that the prodigal had got home. ; 
There is the poor mourner, trembling perhaps over i 
a drunkard's grave ; and the saint shouting glory ' 
to God, rejoicing even in tribulation, having a j 
blessed hope of heaven, and looking for the glorious | 
appearing of her God and Saviour. The first time .! 
I visited the poor-house I was led up to the bedside I 
of " Granna Taylor." She was ninety-eight yeai-s ij 
old, bhnd, and nearly deaf By putting my mouth | 
close to her ear and speaking loud, she could hear me. 
When I introduced inyself to her as a blind 
preacher, her soul seemed to take fire at once. 

I asked her if she knew anything about Jesus of 
l^azareth. She clapped her bony hands together 
and said, " Yes, glory to God ! he is my Saviour. 
He converted my soul seventy-two years ago, and 
he has supported me ever since by his grace. When 
all my earthly friends forsook me, he came with 
me to the poor-house, and hath comforted me here. 
O how I love Jesus, and long to be with him!" 
During the seven years that I preached there it 
was pay enough for going twelve miles to have 



LIFE OF G. TV. HEXRY. 



S13 



the privilege of poiiring a prayer into lier ear, and 
hearing her shouts of praise as she loaded the 
1mm uJe messenger with blessings 'and thanks- 
giving. The last time I saw her she had, as 
usual, her sorrows as well as her joys to tell me. 
She had several hymns that she loved to sing, 
and portions of Scripture, learned before she 
w\as blind, that she w^as in the habit of repeating. 
But she said of late when she began to sing 
some one would come and slap her in the face. 
Before I saw her again she had gone to a country 
wdiere there are no poor-houses, and, blessed be God I 
no wicked to molest the saints of God. Sing on, 
Granna Taylor, and by-and-by I will join you where 
the deaf ear is unstopped and the wicked cease from 
troubling. We might relate many incidents of the 
aged and crippled lovers of Jesus who have been 
carried by angels to Abraham's bosom, but we have 
not room to do so. Great God ! what must the 
angels think to see a poor-master drive to the door 
of some wretched hovel, and take one of Jesus's 
brothers and carry him to the poor-house. Suppose 
that, on his way there, he halts in front of a splendid 
mansion, its windows hung with rich and splendid 
tapestry, its rooms luxuriously furnished with 
mahogany sofas and rose-wood pianos, its floors 
covered with soft carpeting, its wardrobes crowded 
' with silks and costly broadcloths, its tables adorned 
'iWith massive silver, and presenting every tempting 
jTariety gathered trom all quarters of the globe, its 



314 TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 

inmates carrying a small fortune upon tlieir pei^sons ; 
the pauper in tlie cart, in his rag-s and ■wretchedness, 
ventures to ask the poor-master who lives there, 

and is told that brother and sister A., of the ■ 

Church, live there — excellent people. The poor 
man, maybe, is not wise in this world^s wisdom ; 
but as he remembers, " Whoso hath this world's 
goods and seeth his brother have need and shutteth 
up his bowels of compassion from him, how 
dwelleth the love of God in him ?" he raises his 
eyes to heaven in astonishment, and ventures 
to ask again, "Do they when they make a feast 
invite the poor ?" But the question is unanswered ; 
for they have arrived at the door of the poor-house, 
and the pauper is hustled in, to spend the remnant 
of his days with the drunkard, the profane, the idiot, 
the half-rotten, the dying and the dead. 

" But," says the reader, " why do you cLaim for 
tliis pauper a relationship with Jesus Christ?" 
We will let Christ answer for himself: — "'\\nioso- 
ever shall do the will of my Father which is in 
heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and 
mother." Matt, xii, 50. And, to show his regard 
for his adopted relatives, ho says again : " Verily I 
say unto yon, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one 
of the least of these my brethren ye have done it 
unto me." Surely, if there was any abuse to be 
offered, I should rather have it done to me than to 
my tender wife and children. Even so the Husband 
and Father of the Church will sympathize with 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRT. 



315 



those that he loves, and punish the offender as readily 
as if the abuse had been offered to himself. 

The parable of Dives and Lazarus, as well as that 
concerning the man who fell among thieves and 
was relieved by the good Samaritan, will probably 
be better understood at the day of judgment than 
it is now. The purple and fine linen, and sumptuous 
living here^ will cause the admonition there^ as surely 
in your case as in that of the rich man : " Son, 
remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy 
good things !" O Lord, cleanse the Church from 
their gewgaws. There are now more than thrc-e 
mihions of Church-members who have sworn, God 
being their helper, to renounce the vain pomp and 
glory of the world. My dear brother and sister, 
ttu-n to your Bible, then to your wardrobe, and see 
how they compare. Remember the vows you made 
before God when inducted into the Church or the 
ministry, then turn from your stiperfiuities and look 
upon Lazarus, lying at your gate covered with sores, 
ragged, wretched, and forsaken. The Lord has 
made you his steward. Can he say to you at his 
coming, " Well done, good and faithfid servant !" 
if you have left his family to suffer, while yon wasted 
his substance in riotous living ? 

But, says the reader, I thought Lazarus was dead 
long ago. There you are mistaken ; Lazarus is still 
living upon the earth. Gather together the inmates 
of all the poor-houses and hospitals, and add to these 
all the wrotched drunkards, their wives and children • 



316 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN TfiE 



cast your eyes over Mason's and Dixon's Line, and lieat 
the cries of more than three millions of slaves, for- 
bidden by law to read the word of life ; then throw 
your quadrant around the heathen of the world, 
who perish for the lack of knowledge ; — ^put all these 
together, and you have Lazarus lying at the rich 
man's gate. O that I had room and time to say 
more on this important subject ! I have often thought, 
if I could have the privilege of stripping the Church 
of all that God has forbidden them to wear, I could 
clothe and feed the Lazaruses of this world. There is 
no doubt but that the Church this day, in America, 
average ten dollars apiece of superfluities ; so that 
from three millions of Church-members might be 
taken thirty millions of dollars annually. 

G Lord, purify the sons of Levi, and purge them 
as silver and gold, that they and their families may 
be examples to the flock. Help us to make straight 
paths with our feet, lest that which is lame be turned 
out of the way. that we might think more of 
the flock, and less of the fleece ! But, says one, 
do you not think it right to take money for preach- 
ing, especially at the poor-house ? When I get 
religion enough to bear it, and so poor that 
cannot live without it, I may perhaps take it. 
once allowed a subscription to be taken up for ra 
in the village of Herkimer. Having preached 
the forenoon, it was announced by a good brothe 
that, at the close of the evening service, a su 
Bcnption would be taken up for brother Henry 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



817 



My preacliing in the evening was like a loco- 
motive, endeavouring to surmount a heavy grade 
with a little steam. 

The subscription amounted to about three dollars. 
That was the first and the last I have ever received 
for preaching. What will be hereafter I know not ; 
but I should be afraid that if a large salary wei-e 
given by the county for preacliing at the alms-house, 
my eye might cease to be single to the cause of 
saving souls. I fear that I should be like some of 
iS'oah's carpenters, who worked faithfully in building 
the ark, who verily received their reward, which v;as 
the dollar, but never entei'ed into the ark. I am 
not writing any one else's experience but my ovvii, 
neither do I say it is wrong to pay money foi 
preaching the gospel. On the contrary, it is wicked 
not to do it ; and I have done it myself, more or 
less, ever since I was converted. Although I have 
travelled as many miles, and preached to as many 
people, perhaps, as any other humble individual for 
three dollars, yet I never have lacked any of the 
common comforts of life. AYlien my wife was 
brought down, as she supposed, to the verge of 
Jordan, her jewelry, which had been laid up in a 
napkin, found its way into the missionary-box, and 
her silk frino-es found an entrance into a flamini^ 
stove. The devil cried out. Wastefulness ! as she 
stood with the large handful of Italian braid in her 
hand ; better give them or sell them to your hired girl. 
. Yes ! and then turn around and reprove her for 



318 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



wearing them. consistency, thou art a jewel ! 
Eeader, let me tell you a httle story, to illustrate my 
idea of consistency. A few years since 1 chanced 
to be standing by the side of a minister, who was 
giving directions to a carriage-maker for a new 
bnggy. The mechanic asked him whether he wonld 
have silver-plated hnbs, or have the iron painted over, 
telling him that the difterence in the price would be 
about two dollars. The minister replied that he 
would have the silver hubs by all means. iSTow 
suppose that minister should chance to have his 
carriage opposite the church window vrhile leading 
the class, and there should happen to be present 
a sister wdth a pair of ear-rings dangling from her 
ears that cost two dollars. If he was a Methodist 
he would probably say to her, " Sister, the word 
of God and our Discipline forbid the wearing of 
such things ; besides, you are fostering pride in 
your own heart and wastino; your Lord's money. 
Why, sister, the price of those jewels would send 
thirty-two Testaments to the heathen. Think, 
too, of the example you are setting to others." 
This exhortation is all good and true, and it is 
Avhat every faithful minister ought to administer 
to any who offend. But what would it avail in 
the case we have just cited, so long as the silver 
luib was as plain to the view of the young lady 
as the jewelry w^as to the minister? Would she 
not say to him, " Sir, you choose to wear your 
jewelry on your carriage ; I choose to wear mine 



♦ LIFE OF G. W. HEXRT, -319 

in my ears." Here you .find tliem both tumbled 
in the ditcli together, and the washing of the Holy- 
Spirit will be needed to cleanse them from their 
idols. 

I^efcder, I have referred by chance to one piece of 
extravagance in the shape of a silver-plated wagon- 
hub. Not but that I might find a thousand other 
things in the Church more or less extravagant. 
Certainly a man, to be in good taste, if he had a 
silver-plated hub, should have a plated harness, 
and the balance of the rig throughout to correspond. 
Then, to ride in this fine carriage, the husband and 
wife should be I'ichly dressed ; and if we should follow 
the establishment home w^e should expect to find, 
household furniture to match, otherwise it would 
appear like a gentleman barefoot with a pair of fine 
kid gloves on. 

And then, when the feast or tea-party is made, in 
vain may the poor and ragged and half-starved ex- 
pect to receive a card of invitation. I was once at a 
camp-meeting in Maryland, composed of about an 
equal number of black and white, where a coloured 
man preached. In speaking of a feast, he said : 
"You know, bredren, dat when we cook fine turkey 
and venison and all such tings, we only have the 
aggravation of looking on dem and smelling on dem, 
den settino- dem on de dinino; table for Massa and 
Missy and de big gentle-folks, who eat dem all up ; 
but, bressed be God I it aint so m de gospel feast ; 
dere de poor brack nigger can set down to do fust 



320 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



table Tvid Massa Jesus, and liave de soul feed od fat 
tings full of marrow.'' Glory to God ! Uncle Tom 
and Aunt Chloe may liave their sorrows and dis- 
appointments in tliis world, but it will not be so in 
the world to come. Thanks be to God I Ethiopia 
has already stretched forth her hands, and thousands 
of northern freemen stand ready to welcome with 
a hearty shahe the outstretched hand, and whisper 
in the ear of the long- down-trodden, " Light is 
dawning." May God speed the time when none 
on the face of this fair land shall be debarred the 
heav^en-bestowed right of searching the Scriptures, 
and glowing wise thereby I 



SELLING HEAVEN. 

"Go, Lring me," said the dying fair, 

With anguish in her tone, 
"Tliose costly robes and jewels rare, 

Go, bring them every one." 
They strew'd them on her dying bed, 

'J'hose robes of princel}" cost ; 
"Father," \vith bitterness she said, 

" For these my soul is lost ! 

" Witli glorious hopes I once was blesi, 

Xor fear'd the gaping tomb ; 
With heaven already in my heart 

I look'd for heaven to come. 
I heard a Saviour's pardhiing voice, 

My soul was fill'd with peace ; 
Fatlier, you bought me witli these toyt^ 

I barter'd heaven for these 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



321 



" Take them, they ai-e the price of blood ; 

For them I lost my soul ; 
For them must bear the wrath of God 

While ceaseless ages roll. 
Kemember, when you look on these, 

Your daughter's fearful doom ; 
That she, her pride and thine to please, 

Went quaking to the tomb. 

" Go, bear them from my sight and touch ; 

Your gifts I here restore ; 
Keep them with care — they cost you much, 

They cost your daughter more. 
Look at them every rolling year 

Upon my dying day. 
And drop for me the burning tear," 

She said, and sunk away. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

The summer of 1851 was tlie season of a glorious 
camp-meeting at Augusta. It was so good in the 
beginning and ending tliat I cannot pass it un- 
noticed. When I say ending, I mean the breaking 
up of the meeting ; for I do not beheve I have yet 
found the end of the glorious river that swe^t 
through my soul, and has wafted me on towards 
heaven. I expect the river to grow broader and 
deeper until it is lost in the great ocean of eternity ; 
but I must make this long story short. My little 
boy Charley, who was converted at the class-meetmg, 
as I told you, while absent a few months at school, 
21 



3^2 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



had suffered the little mischievous foxes to mutilate, 
if not to root up, the tender vines planted in the 
garden of his soul. As I crossed the threshold of 
the camp-ground. I received a hearty welcome from 
the great Head of the Church. I then took Charley 
ni the arms of faith and threw him into the pool^ 
and he rose in the likeness of his Saviour. Ten 
o'clock found us in our covered wagon, which we 
used as a substitute for a tent, and I doubt whether 
the disciples were much happier on Mount Tabor 
than we were there, fully proving that it is not the 
place, but the state we are in that makes the heaven. 
We were full of glory and of God. With our souls 
all washed with the blood of Christ and renewed in 
life, oiu* sleep was like that of Bunyan's pilgrims, 
who received their refreshment from the hand of 
the shepherd on the delectable mountains ; it left a 
peculiar flavour and sv\"eetness upon the lip, so tliat 
they talked in their sleep about the celestial city 
^nd the King of the place. A word or two about 
the morning waking, and we pass along. It was 
a lovely summer morning in June, and we awoke 
just at the break of day. It seemed as if every 
limb in the forest around us was bending vrith a 
feathered songster, whose lieart and tongue, like 
our own, had been tuned anew for heaven, whilst 
over our head a squirrel chattered in perfect harmony. 
Veiy soon we heard the morning song, follovv^ed by 
fervent prayer, from the family ahar, until every tent 
was vocal with prayer and praise ; yea, in the Ian- 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRT. 



323 



giiage of tlie prophet, the very hills and raountains 
seemed to break forth with singing, and all the trees 
of the field to clap their hands for joy. My earthly 
eyes could not look upon all these beauties ; but, to 
the undimmed vision of the soul, I seemed to have 
already come to that place where the revelatoi 
heard every creature in heaven and on earth and 
under the earth, and all that are in the sea, saying : 
*' Blessing, honour, glory, and power be unto Him 
that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for- 
ever and ever." In the midst of this general jubilee, 
however, there came a flock of crows with their black 
shining coats ; and their caw, caw, caw, brought to 
my mind the passage of Scripture : " There shall 
come scoffers in the last days." But, regardless of 
the cawing of crows, the anthem of praise went up 
to God ; and though the Church have been scoffed at 
and ridiculed by a sensual and pleasure-loving 
multitude since the days of Christ, they still shout 
triumphantly : " Neither death, nor life, nor angels, 
nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, 
nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any 
other creature, shall be able to separate us from the 
^ove of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

" Though unseen, I love the Saviour ; 

He hath brought salvation near ; 
Manifests his pard'ning favour ; 

And when Jesus doth appear, 
Soul and body 

Shall his glorious image bear." 



324 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IX THE 



The meeting grew better and better as souls were 
converted and believers sanctified; and when we 
met on the last morning for love-feast, there was 
brother B. J . Ives with his battalion of young soldiers, 
many of them new recruits, and brother Torry with 
his detachment of red men, who had laid down the 
tomahawk and taken hold of the sceptre of peace. 
And now the love-feast relished like the dessert of 
strawberries and cream, after the more substantial din- 
ner. Then came the brealdng up of the circle, and the 
farewell. Long may this time-honoured custom be 
retained, as a feature of our beloved camp-meetings. 
While the procession was passing around, I began 
to feel the effects of the wine dispensed by the Master 
of the feast, and I began to jump, and perhaps I 
jumped fifty times as high as ever I did in my 
vouthfal days, and then fell to the oTound. I was 
never happier in my life ; but I soon rose and took 
my place with the preachers, and as the procession 
came around they seemed to be robed in spotless 
white, and I felt as if I were passing them directly 
into the kingdom of heaven. These were certainly 
the most peculiar moments of my life. Scripture- 
promises seemed to flow forth from my mouth like 
the gushing of water from the smitten rock, as I 
encouraged every one that I took by the hand to 
enter into rest. The question has 'often been asked, 
whether I had anything to do with that leaping and 
jumping ; and I answer in the fear of God, if I know 
my own heait, I have no will about it any more 



^i^E <)F Gr Hiiis^itf. ^ 325 

I ■ than an automaton, or tlie "brancli swayed to and 
j fro by the wind. Do not.tliint, reader; that these 
!! particular exercises are proof that I possess any more 
I rehgion than some persons who do not have them. 
, The man who sings, and shouts, and dances in tho 
I bar-room may be no more intoxicated than one \slio 
' sits stupidly in his chair, or lies silent on the fiOor. 

You will remember we have shown, in a former 
i chapter, how the same spirit operates difTerentiv 
■ upon dilTerent temperaments. You hnow the p>v- 
chologist and the clairvoyant must have one or 
;j more persons who are wihing to be used as sud-jecls 
1; to illustrate their sciences for the beneHt of liie 
1 titud(i. It seems to be so in the science of rejiu;ioi!. 
il The Holy Ghost makes use of certain ^persons to 
jj display his power for the benefit of the smiieiV v, ho 
' is first moved by sight and then by fixTth. 

I remember, when a very small bovv seeino; a 
■^ighbour of mine, in whom I had the gronte^t con- 
fidence, standing np in the midst of a company or 
wrestling brethren and sisters. Yrhiie talh^ig, all 
i at once he began to tremble and shalve, alid afier 
if shouting once or t\wlce he fell to the ground like a 
dead man. That scene has been 'vivid in my mind 
J ever since. I Hvas convinced of the power of rehgion 
: by Whcft I then saw, more than by all the sermons 
j I had^ ever heard. We have said so much on tlie 
|: subject of these ' outward demonstrations of tho 
'j Spirit, not only becnnse the Spirit has seemed to 
select: your humble author as the subject of these" 



326 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

manifestations, but because many honest Christians 
are in the fog on this subject, and the devil will try 
to make them believe, that because they are noi 
operated upon in the same manner they have no. 
religion, or that those who are thus exercised must 
be deluded' hypocrites or enthusiasts. It is a will- 
ing subject that the pschologist generally selects to 
test his power upon ; even so, unless a Christian is 
willing to be used by the great Eternal in any way 
or shape, or even, like the Apostle Paul, to become 
a fool for Christ's sake, he will not be as hkely to 
be a chosen subject. This rule cannot be considered 
invariable ; for in the history of the Church we have 
frequent accounts of wicked men arrested by the 
power of the Holy Ghost without the agency of 
their own wills in the matter at all. There were 
two cases that occurred, about the time I was con- 
verted, in Cumberland, Maryland. As an illustra- 
tion of this power, permit me to tell the story. A 
wealthy young lawyer, one of the Virginia bloods, 
and withal a very clever fellow, married a very 
proud young lady, and moved into Cumberland 
witli his mother-in-law, an ]*]]>iscopalian lady. Alto- 
gether they took about as nuich room on the side- 
walk as there was any particular need of. About 
tliis time a powerful revival commenced in iJiat 
place. The power of God was manifest in bringing 
sinners to the feet of Jesus. One evening this royal 
trio came at the hour appointed for preaching, and 
took one of the front seats, where they inigljt gratify 



LIPE OF G. HEXRY. 



327 



their curiosity by a fair view of tlie tantrums per- 
formed by tbe deluded Methodists; but, some how 
or other, the Holy Ghost found its way into their 
pew, and persuaded the mother that there was 
something in rehgion besides form and ceremony, 
and she came forward to the altar- and knelt down 
among the servants and common people, and began- 
with all her might to cry for mercy. This enraged 
the royal tigress, and she pounced out of t'; - ! 
and after pouring some severe epithets int>j : 
of her mother, she demanded of her the key of the 
house, declaring that she would not stay there to be 
disgraced. As she took the key, she fell prostrate 
on the floor. Satins, rulfles, I'ings, reputation and 
aristocracy were all rolling on the flt:)or together. 
Her husband and friends, as soon as she gathered a 
little strength, attempted to assist her towards the 
door ; but she cried loudly for mercy, and fell ao-ain 
to the floor. Her case was now fully understood, and 
Christians began calling upon God in her behalf. 

About midnight she was helped home, crying at 
tlie top of her voice as she passed through the 
streets. About two o'clock she was enabled to 
touch the hem of Jesus's garment, and virtue flowed 
into her soul, and she shouted ^uetory I through the 
blood of the Lamb. When the morning came, 
arrayed in humble garments, she went through the 
town, telling the story of Jesus's pardoning love to 
saint and sinner, hio-h and low, black and white, 
proving that the gospel is not only the power of 



:328 



TEIAL3 AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



God unto full salvation, but that in the gospel all 
are brought u|jon a level^ — the poor man rejoicing 
in that he is exalted, and the lich in .- that he is 
made lo^v. - ^ 

There are some hinds of fish that cannot be 
caught vvith a hook or net. The only way is to 
spear them. Such waS: the case vrith SauLoi Tarsus, 
and so it seemed with the individual just mentioned. 
I need not say that a. glorious reformation followed 
in that place. . : ^ 

I will mention one other pecuhar case, of the dis- 
play of God's power. upon- a good old lady, near the 
same tovai, amountino: to somethinof like a miracle. 
vShe was one who had been made perfect through 
suffering, not having been able to walk for several 
years. A camp-meeting was to be held near by, 
and she hungered and thirsted for the great feast. 
Her friends took her to the ground in a carriage, 
and as she was somewhat deaf, the carriage was 
drawn close to the door of the preachers' stand ; and 
while the anointed of the Lord was telling of the 
gloi'ies of a crucified Redeemer, the flood-gates of 
glory seemed to be raised upon her soul, and leap 
ing into the preachers' stand with the strength and 
agility of youth, she shouted at the top of her voice, 
" Double glory ! double glory !" God had said unto 
her, as he did to one of old, " In the name of Jesus 
of IXazareth rise up and walk." When asked what 
she meant by; " double glory," she said, when God 
converted, p4.s?^'^^ifi^<i ^^^i' she shouted glory! 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



329 



hnt now he had^ healed soul and body too, and she 
was determined to give . him double glory. Yes, 
reader, if all the shouts of glory that go up from the 
redeemed of the whole earth could be collected into 
one, the sound would make heaven's arches ring ; 
but in the resurrection, when soul and body shall be 
\nnted, there will be cause for double glory, and 
then shall be heard '* the voice of a great multitude, 
and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice 
of mighty thunderings, saying. Alleluia, for the 
Lord God omnipotent reigueth ! Let us be glad 
and rejoice, and give honour to him, for the marriage 
uf the Lamb is come, and his wife ha Ji made herself 
ready." 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Altttougii we have enough before us of our last two 
years' rich experience to spread over fifty pages, yet 
we have alread}^ so far transcended what v/e origin- 
ally intended, that we must abridge or wholly pass by 
many trials and triumphs in tlie closing part of our 
narrative. Li September, 1851, our annual camp- 
meeting was held in the tovm of Western. It 
chanced to be on the same week as the great book- 
auction in Xew-York, where I made my annual 
purchases for school district-libraries. Thus I was 
in a strait between two. I should have lost no dme 



830 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



in deciding, however, had not circumstances occuiTed 
that made it mv duty to be at home. My wif^ 
presented me wiih the lovely hlach-eyc^l boy that 
you see in her arms, (see frontispiece.) and he is 
now rtmning about the lioor. quite a revenue to our 
earthly joys, and another hght for the blind man's 
path. 

AYe come now to the last v^dnter of my narrative. 
Having sent an agent to the auction. I had a large 
amount of books on hand, and my prospects for 
success were as brilliant as in form.er days, when I 
was pulling down the Alleghany ^Mountains and 
tumbling them into the deep valleys, making a 
highway for the iron-horse to pass over their rugged 
Heights. I had purchased a line horse to carry ou 
my business, and having made extensive contracts 
with trustees of schools. I was just ready to take the 
tide of forttme at the flood, when an old acrpaaint- 
auce came and stood by me, and with his sharp 
shears clipped the wings of my fond anticipations, 
so that instead of flying I found myself compelled 
to take it on foot again. 

This old friend you have been introduced to 
several times while I was travelling in Egypt, under 
the cognomen of " Bad Luck."' Btit I ncvt-r will call 
him by that name again, for he has, doubtless, been 
sent by a kind Providence to hedge up my way from 
the whirlpool of earthly riches and honour, lest they 
lead me to future perdition; for He who saw the 
end from the beginning hath said, Hardly shall a 



LIFE OF Cx. Vr, HEXRY. 



S31 



rich man enter into tlie kingdom of heaven.'' There 
are some creatures so nnruly that they cannot be 
kept where they belong, only by tying them head 
to foot and hanging a board before their eyes. 

This is something hke my case. Unless my rising 
ambition is fettered and bhndfolded, I am sm*e to 
overleap the hmits prescribed by my wise Master; 
therefore, instead of calhng him ''Bad Lnck," or 
" Old Foe," as formerly, I shall ever regard him as 
an angel of mercy, like the one that stood in the 
way of the money-loving Balaam. O Lord, let me 
wear these tokens of a kind Father's love with 
meekness and patience until the appearing of the 
great day, when all bands shall be broken, the eyes 
of the bhnd shall see, the tongue of the dumb shall 
be unloosed, and the feet of the lame shall walk. 
Glory to God for the prospect I But I have outrun 
my story. Please go back with me to the spring 
of 1852. You see me vrith my pencil, figuring 
about fifteen hundred or two thousand dollars of 
school district-library money, which was expected 
to come into the hands of the trustees about the 
first of April. "\Ve had a noble young horse, wortli 
about a hundred dollars. But while I v/as building 
air-castles, an acquaintance entered and informed 
me that the legislature had turned the library-money 
into another channel, leaving a mere pittance scarcely 
worth picking up in the hands of the trustees. So 
liere I was buried up, comparatively, in cart-loads 
of books, without any prospect of seUing. Besides, 



332 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



I was owing for a good portion of them in Xew- 
York. Soon after this I sent my boy with the 
horse to take a friend to Eichfield Springs. He 
retui'ned the next day with the haher in his hand, 
teUing me that the horse had died that morning 
abotit sinirise. The lip of my sick wife began to 
quiver a httle, and a tear or two stole down her 
cheek; but to my view a bright star of promise 
arose, and I heard Jesus gently whispering in my 
ear, " Fear not ; I know thy works, and thy tril-ula- 
tion. and thy poverty ; but thou art rich." After 
speaking a few words of encouragement to my wife, 
telKng her that I was p^^rfectly assured that all these 
things would work together for our goo'i, because I 
knew we loved the Lord, I ascended the ladder that 
led to the garret of my cabin. I knelt there befoi-e 
the throne, and instead of saying this evil is of the 
Lord, I cast a retrospective glance. I thought of 
his mercies to me even while I was a rebel against 
liim in Egypt, and of the wonderftd deiiverances the 
year I was in the slough of despond, then the hotir 
of pardon, and so on till I received full absolution, 
and how my property with my sight all took wings 
and flew away ten years ago, yet I had never 
lacked to this day any of the comforts of life. My 
barrel of meal and cruse of oil had never been 
empty ; and if I had any complaints to make, it 
ought to be against myself, that so miworthy a re- 
cipient should fare so sumptuously ; and I prayed 
'God to forbid that I should be hke the ancient 



LIFE OF G. Vr, HEXRT. 



333 



Israelite wlio murmured against God, even while 
Ills mouth was filled with the flesh of the deli Cl oil 3 
quail. O, what a sacred spot was this to my soul 1 
The Spirit pointed me to Job, and reminded me 
Iiow the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more 
than his beginning." the exceeding great and 
precious promises I I arose from my knees, and 
came down from Mount Tabor, fully believing that 
good would come out of our affliction. 

In the summer of 1849 I lost a horse by disease 
that cost twenty-five dollars ; and in the vrinter of 
1850 I had one stolen that cost forty-five dollars ; 
and now, in the winter of 1852, I lost this one that 
cost me eighty dollars. And now we see that wise 
Hand that moves all the machinery of providence, 
causing a resurrection of my three horses. God put 
it into the hearts of my friends and neighbours to 
circulate a subscription to remunerate me for the 
loss of my horse. The Holy Ghost, going a httle in 
advance of the petition, prepared the hearts of the 
people, so that when the petition came they wi^re 
ready to open their pockets and give their money as 
freely as the mouth of the fish yielded up the 
tribute-money for Peter. A strange place one would 
think to find a ptirse floating about in the sea. 
When the money was brought to me, the amount 
did not vary one dollar from the cost of the three 
horses. Little did I think the dtrarh of one horse 
would be the resurrection of three. So let us trust 
in the Lord and do good, and verily" we shall " bo 



334 



Trials and triumphs w the 



fed." About this time I had a good opportunity to 
exchange my Ubrary-books for Fox's Book of Mar- 
tyrs, which had lately been re\ased, making a 
splendid book, about the size of a large family Bible, 
containing fifty-five quarto engravings ; and, strange 
to tell, I sold from four to five hundred dollars worth 
in a very short time, within five miles of the village 
of Frankfort. I also sold about one hundred dollars 
worth of books to libraries. And thus far the Lord 
has been my helper. Another little providence I 
will mention to the praise of Him who has said, " If 
God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is^ 
and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not 
much more clothe you, O ye of little faith ?" I had 
lost my over-coat, or had it stolen from me. But 
the eye of Him who tempers the wind to the shorn 
lamb, witnessed my necessity, and he at once sent 
a messenger with a much better coat than I lost, 
which fi.tted me to a T. It had belonged to old 
father Bradt, of the town of Schuyler, who had 
lately finished his pilgrimage upon earth. Hia 
Vv'idow had at first made a difi'ei'ent disposition of 
the coat, but after wai-d, though she had never heard 
of my loss, she said the Spirit gave her no rest until 
she had sent for it and directed her son Peter to 
bring it to me. I I'eceived it directly from the 
Lord, like the old woman I heard of once, vrhowas 
one morning overheard by a wicked man praying 
for l.)read to save her from starvation. The infidel, 
thiukiiig to hav(j a Yilih fun, ran home, and taking 



LIFE OF G. W. HEisRr. 



335 



two large loaves of bieacl, returned to the cabin, 
crept softly up, and tumbled tbe loaves down the 
chimney. Peeping through a crevice, he saw the 
old lady, her eyes swimming with tears of gratitude, 
pick up the bread, and eat it, giving hearty thanks 
to God. The wicked man bellowed out, " You old 
fool, you needn't thank God for that bread, for / 
brought it to you." The old saint replied, " that it 
made no difference to her if the devil brought it ; 
she knew that the Lord sent it." 

About this time my brother-in-law, Judge Wright, 
the proprietor of an extensive flouring establishment 
in Logansport, Indiana, hearing of our misfortunes, 
told us that as long as he owned the mill he would 
furnish us Vvith all the flour we needed ; and he has 
been as good as his word. 

Another channel of benevolence I ought not to 
fail to mention, — Mr. L. M. Brown, the youngest 
brother of my wife, a merchant, in Lafayette, Indi- 
ana, who occasionally slips a five or ten dollar 
note into a letter, which finds a more than welcome 
in the cabin of the poor. How glad I am that my 
Heavenly Father has directed his recording angel to 
credit all these things to my benevolent friends, 
even to the giving a cup of cold water in the name 
of a disciple. 

" His stores are open all and free 
To such as truly upright be ; 
Water and bread he '11 give for food, 
And all things else he sees is good. 



336 



TRIALS AXD TRirMPHS IX THE 



"Then do not seek, with, anxious care, 
What Toii shall eat. or drink, or wear ; 
Your Heavenly Father will yon feed ; 
He knows that all these things you need. 

" Without reserve give Christ your heart ; 
Let him his righteousness impart ; 
Then all things else he Tl freely give ; 
With him you all things shall receive." 

Amen ! My soul is a witness to tlie trutli of these 
lines. Truly might the apostle say, that the promises 
are yea and amen in Christ Jesus. But yrhile we 
remember with gTatitude our kind fiiends through 
whom, as a medium, God conveys temporal bless- 
'ings to liis needy children, we cannot help reflect- 
ing, that many who give their goods to feed the 
poor will miss of heaven at last, because they have 
made a Saviour of their good works. Let us be 
careful to remember that " there is none other 
name under heaven given among men whereby we 
must be saved," but the name of Jesus. 

I am reminded of another little circumstance, 
which claims a place in this golden chain of provi- 
dences. It was but a few days since, as I was- 
getting ready on Saturday to go to Rome poor- 
house, a distance of twenty-seven miles, to pi each 
the gospel, the tempter whispered in my ear, " You 
Iiave no money to spare on such occasions.'' Here 
I found it necessary to climb up the ladder that led 
to the garret of my cabin, and tell my Heavenly : 
Father all about my troubles. He listened to me i 
kindly, and graciously permitted me to pour all my \ 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



337 



troubles into his bosom. I came do^vn from my 
sanctum, feeling assured that the Lord would not 
suffer me to go a warfare at my own charges. I 
set out at once, and in a few minutes the iron-horso 
landed us in the village of Rome. I had not been 
there long, before some individual met me with a 
friendly salutation, and, giving me a hearty shake 
of the hand, passed on, leaving a five-dollar note in 
my hand. I know not who he was, or from whence 
he came ; probably I never shall, until tlie books 
are opened above. But I fully believe that it came 
as directly from God as did the meat and bread 
tliat was brought to Elijah by the ravens. My fare 
on the cars was only one dollar, but I have always 
found the Lord a good paymaster. It is the pure 
in heart that can plainly see the hand of God in 
lesser as well as in greater blessings, and thankfully 
acknowledge him in all his ways. 

Reader, I liave been relating to you the kind 
dealings of my Heavenly Father to me for the hist 
year of my narrative. The few incidents I have 
given you have been selected from many like pron- 
deuces, and are cb.aract eristic of God's dealings with 
me since I entered into his gracious service, although 
I did not see them so plainly while travelling in 
twilight, as I have since I entered the land of 
Beulah. And I solemnly believe, that if I prove 
faithful to Ilim that hath called me, sooner than I 
should lack the comforts of life, God would place a 
key in one of my hands, and his draft in the oilier, 



338 



TRIALS A:\D THIUMPHS IX TEE 



and, witli the full assurance of faith, I could unlock 
the heart, the pocket, or the granary of the various 
misers on earth. 

I wish to say a vrord here to my local brethren 
in the ministry. Satan will tempt you that you ara 
working for nothing. Remember what St. Peter 
says, and you will at once detect his folsehood : 
"Feed the liock of God which is amono: you, takinor 
the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly ;. 
not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind ; neither as 
being lords over God's heritage, but being ensamn 
pies to the flock : and when the chief Shepherd 
shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that 
fadeth not away." 



CIIAPTErv. XXXI. 

T AM often astonished wlion I Lxk back upon the 
first pait of my Christian pilgrimage, and reflect 
upon my stupidity and blindness upon the gi-eat 
subjects of temperance and slavery. Although the 
curtain of my moral vision has been gi-adually rolling 
up, yet I think I never saw these two huge mon-i 
bters, this Gog and Magog, in their true light untill 
within the last three years. k 
During the fifteen years that I was engaged onfi 
public works, I presume to say that veiy few men 
followed more drunkards to the grave than I did 



LIFE OF a. W. HENRY. 



S39 



Probably ten tboiisand dollars would not purchase 
tlie liquor tliat was drank witliin tliat time by tiiose 
in my employ. 

Alas ! how indifferent one may become by con- 
stant familiarity ^vitli scenes of drunkenness, de- 
bauchery, and death. I thank God that he has 
fully awakened me to a sense of my responsibility 
as a man and a Christian. St. James informs us 
that " pure religion, and undefiled before God, is to 
visit the fatherless and the widow in their affliction 
and then, as if aware that in searching out the 
abodes of poverty, we should come in contact with 
vice and corruption, he adds, " keep yourselves un- 
spotted from the world." Visit the widow in her 
affliction; not when her quarter's rent is due, to 
pinch from her hard-earned pittance your claim, but 
visit her to reheye, to console, and to instruct in 
righteousness. There are thousands that alcohol 
' has robbed of a kind father and husband, house 
and home, and all the comforts that make hfe de- 
I sirable ; and while you are administering comfort, 
and wiping away the tear of sorrow, keep yourself 
I " unspotted from the world." ^N'ot by avoiding 
them, and passing by on the other side, as if you 
would say, "I am better than thou but by follow- 
ing Christ's example, who ate and drank with 
pubhcans and sinners, seeking thereby to instil into 
b their minds his pure and righteous principles, r It 
I", was from reflections such as these that I decided to 
i join the Sons of Temperance. My motive^ W:^: not 



§40 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



to sustain the Division, as an abstract tiling,^ but 
labour for tbe cause of tbe poor; believing;, as I^d'' 
that tbe Sons are nobly engaged in efforts to reliet 
the widowed and orphaned sufferers of their comnic 
enemy, alcohol. "We have often proved that " unic' 
is strength." We find it so in our Church organiz 
tions. As a body, we can accomplish more in tl 
work of saving souls, than we could do separatel 
The same is true of the Order to which we ha' 
referred. '! 

Let us glance for a moment at the call for ] 
bourers in this vineyard. There is in our ov 
village a distillery converting annually twenty tho 
sand bushels of breadstuff, which God in his mer 
has provided to sustain life, into an instrument ' 
death, fitted to ca^ry the fires of hell into the pear 
ful abodes of thousands of families, W^herever' 
goes, there rests a blighting curse. Thousands 
tender hearts, interwoven by the ties of consanguin' 
and holy affection, are torn asunder and left ble 
*ng. O when God comes to make inquisition 
Lr.ood, shall it not cry unto liim from the groun^ 
?>u^ tlj is ^3 not all. Eight or ton ebcablished ru* 
. actively engaged., meet of thorn seven cl/ 
• '/cek, in spreading the work of death a 
•■'anation. 

•ion of brave Sons, who are a detachm 
- -r"'i-no; army of more than thirty4 

diousar thrown themselves into tlie brea 

an.d y/hile with one hand they wage war a.ga:i 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



341 



fce invader of our peaceful homes, the other is 
'tretched out to protect the defenceless and relieve 
pe suffering. Such was my errand in joining the 
jfons of Temperance ; and if I have got a religion 
ijhat will not sustain me on any errand of mercy, I 
|ad better part with it and procure the genuine 
j^'p'ticle. 

Thus far the Lord has led me on. I carry my 
,5ehgion into the Division and bring it out again, 
|ind find use for it while I am there too= I have 
,aailed my fla"- to ili^ jy y ..d 
|ive us the Maine iav", „ ^cy ii...^ : 

Ibutting an end to tl-G Iiie pi4iyers 

jpd groans of the T/iclo v and orphan, I fully be- 
.ieve, have alre^i^ y h-\: i^-^ x 'h: ^^jrd 

jpf Sabaoth, a-: . j 

^3-od is on th3 walls 0i:.Kii:g : , _ . jx^ j-J'' 

.^men ! let the temperanzo ' • / " 

^itone cut out of the liioiiir-ain 

lit shall fill the whole earth. 

Reader, I have only given you an inkling of my 
ii'iews upon temperance, although there is enough 
|)ent up in my soul to fill a volume ; and if there 
»vere any danger of becoming indifferent on this sub- 
ject, I have only to go to Herhimer and Oneida 
Jounty poor-houses, to keep the fire of holy indigna- 
pon burning. " At the last it biteth like a serpent, 
Md stingeth like an adder.'' 

1 In reo-ard to th^ ^ - - - ' '■ 

h{-eii f^'aid. ana >.iM ^ . uf ., tov., Mi.i. > .^^^ 



342 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



remains for me. I will, however, define mv posi- 
tion." I have spent years at the South, and seen 
slavery in its various forms. Yet, vrhen I came 
Xorth, I brought with me a prosy, sleepy indiffer- 
ence to the all-absorbing subject of human freed^om, 
and said, by my actions, if not in words, Am I my 
brother's keeper But, when heaven's pure day 
took the place of twilight. I think I saw every man 
in his true light. I saw the unenviable positi'jn of 
the slaveholder on the one hand, and the miseries and 
tears of the oppressed on the other. I felt the force 
of what St. Paul says to his Hebrew brethren, "Re- j 
member them that are in bonds as boun^:! vritli . 
them." And when I addressed the throne of grace 
in private or in public, the oppressed slave, as well 
as the poor drunkard and his family, were remem- 
bered in my petition. I cannot resist the tempta- 
tion, at this point, to quote from ^Irs. S^t "*W(\ Avho, 
I have no doubt, has been instrument: ! in d'^in^r 
more for the cause of the oppressed African, — more, 
at least, in bringing about a healthy public opinion 
upon this subject, — than all the grave legislators and 
profound divines that ever undertook to exhibit its ] 
horrid abuses. ^^Ve take the extract from St. Clare's J 
conversation with his Vermont cotisin, page 10, vol. ii. ^ 
^' On this abstract question of slavery there can, as I 
think, be but one opinion. Planters, who have 
money to make by it, — clerg3'men, who have 
planters to please, — politicians, .who want to rule by 
it, — may warp and bend language and etliics to a 



LITE OF G. W. IIEXKY. 343 

i deo^ree that shall astoirisli tlie world at their ia- 

o 

genuity ; they can press nature and the Bible, and 
nobody kno^vs vrhat else, into the service ; but, after 
all, neither they nor the world beheve in it one 
particle the more. It comes from the devil, that 's 
the short of it; and, to my mind, it's a pretty 
respectable specimen of vrhat he can do in his own 

■ line This cursed business, accursed of God 

I and man, what is it ? Strip it of all its ornament, 
run it down to the root and nucleus of the whole, 
i and v>'hat is it I Why because my brother Quashy 
ignorant and weak, and I am intelligent and 
sirong, — because I know how, and can do it, — ^ 
therefore I may steal all he has, keep it>, and give 
1 him only such and so much as suits my fancy, 
I "Whatever is too hard, too dirty, too disagreeable 
for me, I may set Quashy to doing. Because I 
v don't like work, Quashy shall work. Because the 
■ ; " ^ me, Quashy shall stay in the sun. Quashy 

the money, and I will spend it. Quashy 

jj, shall he down in every puddle, that I may walk 
over dry-shod. Quashy shall do my will. j. ^ i:ot 
.-is, all the days of his mortal life, and b . . „v 
jj; chance of getting to heaven at last I una conve- 
1 -ient. This I tahe to b3 abo-t what '\ - I 
^. fv anybody on ecrth to real cur shv hS it 

our law-boohs., and make aDything eise 
: Talk of the abuses of sla^-er? ! Humbug! 
JLe thing itself \s> the essence of all abuse! And 
^.6 only reason why the land don't sink -under it^ 

I 



S44 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IK THE ; 

like Sodom aPxcl Gomorrali, is, because it is zised h' ■ 
a vray infinitelY better than it is." ■ ' 

Mrs. Stowe has given us the sum s.vA substance ' 
of the thing, though some of us -v^ho had seen 
Yrorkings years ago, needed the baptism of a pu: 
heart before ^ve v>'ere fully awake to the truth of tl: 
great precept, " "Whatsoever ye would that me 
should do to you, do ye even so to them," As L 
me, I felt that woe would be unto me if I did no'- 
lift up my voice as a trumpet, to wake up a drows; l 
Church, vho are like the baggage-wagons of ai ; 
army, f^Y in the rear. Alas ! how many Christian 
are at this day like Lazarus, standing by the edg ' 
of a sepulchre, wrapt about with grave-clothes, hi i 
hands and feet bound, and a napkin over his eyes: n 
Tiirv are brought to life, it is true; but they migh c 
r.s ^vell be in their graves, as regards usefulness ^ 
oth ers. They are wrapt about with bigotry, thei. ;: 
^: ' ' " with a strong desire for th r 

.V : ^ .1 , : : .^rtain of unbelief over thei^ ? 

eves, Lor ' : 3cond time. Loose then: t 

Lei Lijem go into the abodes Ov 
v_:,.:/y ... , . .iiedness. They will find subject 
enough that have been robbed of their money ano ' 
of gospel privileges, lying half dead where the prier ; 
and the Levite have passed them by. Raise ther . 
up, pour the oil of consolation into the wounde \ 
spirit, and get out your pence to minister to thei t 
earthly comforts. You will find that money lah ^ 
out for the benefit of the poor, in God's name, wi^ 



LIFE OF a. TT. KEXr.Y. 845 

be better stock than any of earth's corporations can 
produce. But you must be willing to trust the Lord, 
to lay out your property in the way that he sees Vv ill 
be most to your advantage. If he does not return 
it four-fold in dollars and cents, it is because he 
sees that riches would be a snare to you. But 
he makes it all up in I'iches of grace. Sooner or 
later it will all come home to you. The widow^s 
two mites, and the tvro-pence of the good Samar- 
itan, have been on interest more thaa eighteen 
jr' hmidi'ed years, and the bank of heaven never 
•| breaks. O, who is like unto the God of Jacob ? 
1 Who can do for his favourites like Israel's God ? 
:| O wicked man, where are now the idols in which 
thou hast trusted ? Ambitious Haman, where is 
now thine idol, honour? Did he stand by thee 
i| upon the gallows ? rich glutton, that madest a 
god of pleasure, will he whom thou hast served 
;5| give thee back thy wasted substance ? sensual 
worldling, that knowest not where to bestow thy 
goods, do riches profit thee ? Could mammon save 
thee ? Deceived souls ! apply now to the gods that 
ye have chosen. Alas I they cannot give one drop 
of water to cool your parched tongue. But the 
jK)rtion of Jacob is not like them. From everlast- 
ing to everlasting, he is God. His pov>^er is my 
rj] confidence ; his goodness is my maintenance ; his 
d -truth is my shield and buckler. And now, reader, 
i:( we are approaching the close of our narrative. We 
have been talking of high and holy things, and 



S46 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



tliey are all true as far as we understand them. 
The same good Spirit that found me gathering stub- 
ble, and making brick for Pharaoh, in Egypt, and 
brought me through the gate of justification, thence 
onv.ard to the suburbs of the land of Beulah, has 
been my counsellor and aid in writing this little 
volume. The apostle has truly said : The natural 
man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for 
they are foolishness unto him : neither can he know 
them, because they are spiritually discerned. But he 
that is spiritual judgeth all things, yet he himself 
is judged of no man." 1 Cor. ii, 14, 15. So, my 
unconverted reader, do not set yourself up as a 
judge of the spiritual part of this volume. Xeither 
can the Christian judge any farther than he has 
travelled in this highway of holiness. But, savs 
the reader, I doubt whether there was ever a n:ian 
made perfect on earth. ^vYell, if that is the case we 
have believed in vain, and our testimony goes over- 
board. But let us examine : for if we can prove that 
one man ever arrived at a state of perfection in the 
tlesh, then all may ; othervrise we should make God 
a respecter of persons. We refer now to the per- 
fection of saints, and not the perfection of God. 
But let us bring the testimony: "I's'oah vras a just 
man, and perfect in his generations, and Xoah 
v;alked with God." Gen. vi, 9. ^' There was a man 
in the land of Uz, Avhose name was Job ; and that 
man was perfect and u])right, and one that feared 
Go'd and eschewed evii. And the Lord said unto 



LIFE OF G. TT. HEXRY 



S4T 



Satai:i, ' Hast tliou considered my servant Job, tliat 
there is none like iiim in tlie earth, a perfect and 
an upright man, one that feareth God and. eschew- 
eth evil.' " Job i, 1 ; ii, 3. " Mark the perfect man, and 
behold the upright: for the end of that man is 
peace." Psa. xxxvii, 37. " For the upright shall dwell 
in the land, and the perfect shall remain in it.'^ 
Prov. ii, 21. The righteousness of the perfect shall 
direct his '^'ay, but the ^Yicked shall fall by his own 
wickedness." Prov. xi, 5. Ilowbeit, we speak 
wisdom among them that are perfect: yet not 
the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this 
vrorld, that come to naught." 1 Cor. ii, 6. "Let us 
therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded : 
and if in anything ye be otherwise minded God 
shall reveal this unto you." Phil, iii, 15. It is 
said further in Scripture of Abraham, that " by his 
works, his faith was made perfect ;" and again ii is 
said by St. James, that " if any man oitend not in 
word, the same is a perfect man ;" and also, 
" AYhoso keepetli his word, in him verily is the 
love of God perfected." We might bring hundreds 
of witnesses spoken of by AYesley and others ; but if 
my readier will reject the above testimony fi'om 
Scripture, he would reject a thousand witnesses that 
had arisen from the dead to convince him ; and 
worse than" that, he will probably reject the blessing 
itselfl Mr. Wesley has truly ^aid, " To overdo is to 
undo, and to set the standard of perfection too high 
is to throw it out of the Church and out of tL.:. 



S48 TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IX THE 

TToiid." I slioiild quite as soon have an enemy 
slioot a Bullet an inch over my head, as an inch 
Tinder my feet. So with the gTeat adversary of our 
souls : if he can get the standard of holiness a littia 



above or a little beneath the Bible stano i:2at- 
ters httle vrhich so that his end is g:.ii:-:^. A 
miss is a.s good as a mile, as far as his purpose is 
concerned. We must be made pe: : to 
prepare us for a thrifty growth, tha: cv:. ^ L: on 
the spiritual tree may bend with fruit u:v: : ' : -?ss. 
the end of which is everlastino- life. } : ; ^ the 



man who has become so wise that he c: :::: : ' : :::e 
any wiser. You cannot do it. Br::. ; i::^ 
so good - 1^ cauuot becci::: 
cannot hi:>^ i.ii.i. You cannot t^. a :l 
vdih knowled^'e until it cannot hold auy : : : }. On 
the contrary, eveiy new acquisition c: :nly 
serves to enlarge the capacity of h':- " the 
comprehension of more truth; so . : he 

knows, the more he is in a condition to learn. 
And the same is true of his progress ' ' : ~ ^ ' ' 
overcame one bad habit yesterday. 1 - 
power to overcome another bad habit r:- ' .v. I: he 
brought into exercise one new viriu't^ y--: }rday, his 
power is not lessened but increas- i. l.' practise 
another new virtue to-day : and so on without any 
assignable limits. The Bible fixes no limits ; our 
nature fixes none ; neither reason nor imarriujuion 
can fix any. But this ability involves ' • a- 

tion to go on. If he stops, no matter iu wliai ^ta^^e 



LIFE OF G. Vr. HEXRT, 



349 



of his progress, he goes bacb^ard ; for in stopping 
lie ceases to improre ; and this is not merely not 
to obey, it is to disobey. ■ He must go on ; and thus 
it is, and only tlins, that the path of the righteous 
grows brighter and brighter nnto the perfect day. 
But we do not stop here. A still higher degree of 
perfection awaits the truly faithfid. 0, is it not a 
glorious thought that we can begin the career of 
ano'els and archanofels in these dwellino-s of dust, 
and when they shall be dissolved, '* be clothed upon 
with our house which is from heaven r' But who 
shall dare to anticipate, even in imagination, the 
stupendous disclosures that are to burst upon the dis- 
embodied spirit ? Of one thing we may be siu^e, — 
a never-endino-, ever-brio-htenino- career of knowl- 
edge, improvement and happiness awaits the fol- 
lowers of Christ. It is the same which we have 
begun here ; and still as ages roll on a voice will be 
heard along the innumerable ranks of the heavenly 
host proclaiming the law "Let us go on unto 
perfection," 



350 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

I THINK it was in the year of our Lord 1846' 
and in the 45th year of my " natural life/' 
and the fifth year of my spiritual life/^ 
being born again of the waters and the 
blood^on the 10th day of August, about one 
o'clock in the morning, 1841 ; and about 
three months after I had followed my 
Spiritual Joshua" into the land of beulah? 
or perfect love-; at this period of my life 
an unlooked for, unsolicited spirit came 
upon me. Although more than a score of 
years have come and gone since that pe- 
riod, it is still marvellous and strange to me 
that an individual comparatively poor and 
totally blind, as I then was, should take up 
my pen to give to the " reading world^^ the 
history of my life. If any of my friends 
who had been familiar with my history and 
had prophesied that I should ever, become 
an author,'' or a preacher of the gospel, 
we should pronounce them insane or fa- 
natic. Notvv^ithstanding all we have said, 
and strange as it now appears to us, we 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



351 



liave already written and sold more than 
twenty thousand volumes, lying upon some- 
body's stand or shelf in the Old and New 
World, containing more than is written in 
the old family Bible from Genesis to the 
end of Revelations. More than ten thou- 
sand of our history have been bought and 
read by all classes, saint and sinner, lent 
and given as presents to friends the wide, 
wide world over. Dr. Z. Paddock, in com- 
mending my books to the public, has truly 
feaid, that natural blindness to me served 
to develop in me what twelve years did to 
John Bunyan in Bedford jail." One would 
suppose that one so illiterate and sunk to 
his chin in degradation, would be the last 
one that a Wise Providence would call and 
elect to bless the world with his pen, and 
fill the world with the Pilgrim's Progress, 
a work that no well bred Doctor of Divinity 
has been able to counterfeit or even imi- 
tate. Bunyan was a quill in the hands of 
the Holy Spirit ; he has to life a perfect 
picture of both counterfeit and genuine 
Christians. We see their portraits hung 
up , or sitting mixed together in our church 
pews at the present day. John Bunyan, as 



352 



TRIALS AXD TPJUAIPHS IX THE 



well as the author of this work, dwelling as 
he declares he did in the land of Beulab, or 
in the sunlight of both precious and reah 
iziDg light, was able to view every man 
and woman in their true light, and hang 
their photographs oq every man's wall. 

My boobs, the several different works, 
were advertised over a portion of Canada, 
in handbills, as the work of the American 
John Banyan, f^r sale at Toronto and other 
places. I often feel that I should make an 
apology to my brother John, formerly of 
Bedford jail, when I meet him in glory, for 
comparing my books with his. I shall tell 
him I was not to blame, as I had nothing 
to do in the matter, no more than I have 
for the very flattering commendations from 
both the Christian press and pulpit. All 
this has been a very small matter for the 
humble author to rejoice over, but when I 
heard men and women and young converts 
say that, under God's grace, the testimony 
in the blind man's book was a sanctified 
means to the bringing them to Jesus, who 
gave them justifN'ing grace; and others, 
what Mr. Wesley terms, as well as the most 
of the fathers of Methodism, the second 



LIFE OF, G. W. HENRY. 



353 



blessing, or a perfecting holiness in the 
love of God, such news made my heart 
glad ; I could slap my hands and praise 
God for using the weak things of the world 
to confound the wise, and things that are 
naught to bring to naught the things that 
are, so that flesh and blood should not glory 
in the presence of God. t 

It is now about eighteen years since I 
laid down my pen, enlarging and revising 
the history of my life ; and as three score 
j^ears and ten have come and gone, and ray 
locks, which I have not seen for about 
thirty years, my wife says, have silvered 
over for the grave; and as vre almost brush 
the dews of Jordan, we are expecting the 
evening must be near. We are anxious to 
leave to our reader a brief history of some 
of the prominent features of our life, and 
what we have been doing for God and man- 
kind, as well as our own souls, for the last 
eighteen years ; although 500 pages would 
not be sufficient to tell the Avonderful story 
of God's providence and marvellous grace 
that has abounded to your unworthy au- 
thor." Since that time, while we often in 
hours of heavenly meditation rejoice that 



354 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IN THE 



bj- and by, when the warfare is over, when^ 
the last trumpet shall sound, all the re- 
deemed of every kindred and tongue, fron^i 
poor house to palace, shall sit together^, 
both bride and bridegroom, at the marriage- 
of the lamb, then we shall have time to tell 
the old, old story, and make the heavenly 
arches ring with that song which no arch- 
angel ever did or ever can sing, viz: the 
Song of Redemption unto Him that loved 
"US and hath redeemed ns unto God by His 
blood, out of every kindred and people 
and nation, and hath made us unto our God 
king^s__and priests, and we shall reign, not 
up in the sky, but, the Revelator says, on 
the earth. Amen. Hallelujah. 



CHAPTER XXXHL 

If our reader has traveled with us in our 
biography, from our youth until the time 
we were about 53 years of age, when we 
laid down our pen at the end of the 31st 
chapter, which was about 18 years ago, he 
has become familiar with the freaks and 



LIEE OF G. W. HENRY. 



355 



follies of my youth, as well as the business 
portions of my history after I became a 
man, with my trials and triumphs, my nat- 
ural blindness, also my religious experi- 
ence. He has been with me to many camp 
meetings, and other spiritual feasts, all of 
which we shall not retrospect. We shall 
not speak in the pages we are to write, 
much about camp meetings ; although I 
think I have had the pleasure of enjoying 
one hundred and twenty-seven such gospel 
festivities since I was converted; and be- 
fore I write any further, let me tell you a 
little story about camp meetings, that fully 
illustrates a great cardinal truth. A Uni- 
versalist friend of mine bought one of my 
histories; he was a Justice of the Peace. 
I afterwards met him, and after our friendly 
salutation and greetings, Well,'' said he^ 
Capt. Henry, I have read your book 
through;'^ and then said, " The fore part of 
it I know is true; but what you say in the 
latter, about your religious experience, is 
to me all perfect nonsense and fanaticism. 
You know you cannot expect me to swallow 
any such dose and digest it; but," ar.^ he 
with a very grave and solemn tone of voice^ 



35G 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



^' there is one thing you say in your book, 
that you think a real Holy Ghost camp 
meeting seems to you a place nearer like 
heaven than any other place on the earth; 
but, sir/' said he, " that portion of your 
saying seems to me blasphemous in the ex- 
treme. I know of no place on earth/' said 
he, " that seems to me more like hell than 
what you call a Holy Ghost camp meeting.'' 
And I have no doubt that this same Justice 
of the Peace related his own heartfelt ex- 
perience; and doubtless if this same man 
had then, or at the present hour, been sit 
down in the realms of bliss, amid the songs 
and shouts of the redeemed, it would have 
been to him, or any other man of a like un- 
changed heart, the severest part of hell. 
A camp meeting, or any other Pentecostal 
revival, is but a foretaste earnest, or a slice 
frojn the same loaf that a true Christian 
will feast upon in the world to come. But 
we must proceed on our journey; our great- 
est trouble in writing or preaching is to 
shut down in due time. 

I think it was in the fall of 1354 that we 
pulled up stakes in the village of Frank- 
fort, and removed to the beautiful village 



LIFE OF G. IIEXRY. 



of Oneida, in Madison county, where we re- 
mained until the spring of 1SG9, when vve 
returned to Frankfort, where we now dic- 
tate to our amanuensis the few pages we 
contemplate writing. Our next move, most 
likely, will be to the cemetery, ttere to 
sleep in Jesus, until He bids me arise to 
hail Him in triumph descending the skies. 
This, we expect, will be the first glorious 
sight we shall be permitted to gaze upon. 
Until that time, we shall be perfectly sat- 
isfied, like Moses, to endure as seeing the 
Invisible ; and we cannot recollect a mo- 
ment, for the last twenty-eight years, that 
we have not been as well pleased and 
well satisfied with total blindness, as we 
ever was with forty years sight. Blind 
Milburn has advertised, the New World 
over, what wonderful things a blind man 
had seen in England, and lectured to tens 
of thousands on that subject ; but we have 
been lecturing for twenty-eight years, or 
preaching to thousands of thousands, in 
prisons, poor houses and high-steepled 
churches, both in Canada and in America, 
what a blind man has seen and felt in the 
kingdom of grace ; and perhaps, after the 



358 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



resurrection of both soul and body, we may 
advertise what a man that was once blind 
has seen, w^ith unclouded vision, in the 
kingdom of glory. We shall have then an 
unmixed auditory; there will be no spots 
in our feasts of charity in that happy land. 

Before we lost our sight, we imagined 
that the loss of sight would be almost infi- 
nitely greater than the loss of hearing ; 
but thirty 3^ears' experience has taught us 
a difi'erent lesson. I would not exchange 
my hearing for perfect vision, for scarcely 
any earthly consideration. If a man was 
worth his millions, he could not hire any 
one to hear for him ; while a few pennies 
will hire a lad with a very good pair of 
eyes, to lead him in safety wherever he de- 
sires to walk; he is what David would call 
a lamp to our feet and a light to our path; 
he is what a lantern would be to a traveler 
in midnight darkness. Natural blindness 
has been to me like losing a penny and find- 
ing a guinea, the dropping of the sable 
€urtain over the window of time, and open- 
ing wide the portals of heaven, filling the 
whole body with the light of life. Still, it 
w^ould be an awful world if all were born 



LIFE OF G. V7-. HENRY. 



359 



blind naturally, as we are. Spiritually, it 
would be utterly impossible to convey the 
least idea of colors, or any of the beauties 
or adornings of heaven above or earth be- 
neath, to a person that has never seen ; he 
is like a man blinded by sin. It would be 
impossible for any Christian man, however 
bright his own moral perceptions of salva- 
tion, to convey to a dinner the joys that 
follow the pardoning love of Jesus, as well 
as that of a full salvation. He must expe- 
rience it in his own soul; faith in God^s 
word, and hearty repentance, w^ill bring 
him to the atoning blood, where faith is 
II swallowed up in spiritual vision, and he 
" will exclaim, like one of Jesus^ patients, 
whose history is jecorded in the ninth 
chapter of St. John^s Gospel: " One thing,'' 
said he to the unbelieving Pharisee, " that 
they could not baffle him in, that whereas 
I lie was once totally blind, he then saw 
clearly,'' and gave to Jesus, the great ocu- 
list, the glory. There can be no better 
figure to illustrate perfect faith than that 
of natural blindness. No man, in any 
court in heaven or earth, can be a witness 
to what he believes, but it must be to some 



360 TEIALS AND TEIOIPH5 IX THE 



I thiDg that has been revealed to one or 

,j j j| more of his five senses. Says St. John, 

' ' " That which vve have felt and heard, and 

our hands have handled, and our eyes have 
looked upon, we testify." One hour or one 
moment before God, for Christ's sake, for- 
gave us our heavy load of sins ; we could 
not swear, in any court, that Jesus had 
power on earth fo forgive sins : but we be- 
lieved ir, and that faith opened the gates 
of Paracise. and we thrii aad i: t^.^ could 
kiss the Ziale. and tesz' ' .: ^ .:ajw of 
the fact experimea":a">a "We are com- 
i mended to prove al' ^ "a^" ai- 

{ : fore, proved that j a:_^ : :r a: 

I as His blood, to claaasa : _-a..:a^at- 

eousness. and His power to preserve blame- 
less, thus far, on our pilgrimaae. so that we 
i have long since ceased to believe those two 

I great cardinal blessings. As Jesus said to 

i Nicodemus, "we speak that which we 

I know.'' Therefore, we think it highly im- 

proper to testify that we believe or hope 
for any thing Ave know experimentally. 
Beyond a doubt, knowledge is spiritual 
sight. TVe walk not by sight, but by faith. 
A few days ago a large convocation of 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



361 



clergymen, as well as laymen, held a Con- 
vention in the city of Utica, composed of 
Unitarians, Universalists, Spiritualists, and 
of the like order. The object of the Con- 
vention vs'as to settle the fact, if possible, 
what pure religion was. The final result 
of the several days of speechifying was a 
sumptuous repast at the jButterfield Hotel, 
where lively and witty toasts were ex- 
changed over their Java and roast beef. 
From the report, we could come to no other 
conclusion what pure religion was, than 
that of the ancient epicurians. Let us,''' 
f aid they, " eat, drink and be merry, for to- 
morrow we die/' Alas ! what a phenomena 
of the nineteenth century, that ministers of 
the gospel, teachers of babes, guides to the 
blind, after occupying the sacred desk for 
many years, should hold a Convention to 
settle the matter, what true religion was. 
If the blind are those that are ignorant 
of the true salvation, take the lead of their 
hearers, He that saw the end from the 
beginning, has declared the final landing 
place of both the blind preacher and his 
followers, viz : in a ditch. Pure experi- 
mental salvation never lands a soul in a 



S62 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



horrible pit, but, on the contrary, hfts bim 
out of it. This is a blindness like that of 
Egypt, that could be plainly felt, yea, shock- 
ingly seen by the true Christian church. 
Alas ! what an everlasting disgrace would 
it be for a Methodist or Baptist church, 
after professing for a century to have 
walked in the true light, to hold a Conven- 
tion in some city, in order to ascertain what 
true religion was. What food for skeptics 
and infidels. Jesus would pronounce such, 
as he did the Pharisees, not only blind, but 
fools and blind. St. Peter says, " But those 
as natural brute beasts, made to be taken 
and destroyed, speak evil only of the things 
that they understand not, shal] utterly per- 
ish in their own corruption." Some theo- 
logians think they will perish utterly in 
the corruption of the grave, without a hope 
of resurrection. 

Dear reader, perhaps you are a back- 
slider, for years have been happy in the 
love of Jesus, walking in the light of life ; 
but your 03^0 has ceased to be single, in all 
you said or did to the glory of God; there- 
fore your light is changed to midnight 
darkness. If so, you are, in a spiritual point 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



363 



of view, what your author is in the tempo- 
ral. When friends speak to us about the 
sun and moon, and the star-spangled heav- 
ens, or the green fields and lovely flowers, 
I remember well how they looked before I 
lost my sight ; precisely so, my apostate 
friend, when you are in a wide-awake love 
feast or prayer meeting, and listen to the 
happy testimony of the young convert, as 
w^ell as the trials and triumphs, battles and 
victories of the older saints; you know well 
what they mean, for you have oft felt the 
same; but unto one that was never brought 
from darkness into the marvelous light of 
the gospel, it is like showing pictures to a 
blind dog. 

Reader, we have made the theme of this 
chapter comparing natural blindness with 
that of spiritual blindness, as also light in 
contrast with blackness of darkness, as we 
have experienced all their lights and shades, 
from spiritual Egypt into the land of Beu- 
lah. This land is never in sight of Doubt- 
ing Castle. Twilight is a little better than 
midnight, but meridian sunlight is iar bet- 
ter. We have said, on one page of this 
chapter, that we were not only satisfied 



364 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



with our infirmities, but rather pleased 
with total blindness, as it was, under grace? 
one of the principal means of bringing us 
to enjoy a blissful state of holiness and hap- 
piness. We have also said we had much 
rather lose our sight than our hearing. 
Indeed, to be deprived of listening to the 
clearness of the gospel trumpet, as also the 
songs of the redeemed, with hearts full of 
love and tongues and lips full of praise, 
joining in concert myself, then to be de- 
prived of social conversation with our own 
household, as well as friends and neighbors, 
would be a loss to us almost infinitely great- 
er than the loss of sight. All the money in 
the world could not contribute or hire a 
pair of ears to hear for us ; but a little 
small change would hire an honest lad to 
become a light to our path and lead us in 
safe places, read to us the Holy Bible, and 
the news of the day; and as faith comes by 
hearing, and hearing by the word of God, 
this almost makes up our loss, This was 
one of the ways that Job, as it is said, was 
eyes to the blind. 

But to conclude, and to illustrate what 
we are about to say, we will take a peep 



LIFE OF G. TV. HENRY. 



into the interior of the pleasant cottage on 
the green mountain slope ; there sets the 
father and mother around the frugal board; 
jSve blooming children, like olive plants, 
surround the table, from the little prat- 
tler up to a lovely maiden of eighteen 
years. Death now enters with the fresh 
written and peremptory summons, the ink 
is scarcely dry; it is from the King Eternal, 
and must be obeyed speedily. The demand 
I is for one of the five children ; one of them 

1' must be taken from the frugal board of fa- 
j .ther and mother, to become or prepare a 
, banquet for ttie grave-worm, and the most 
I heartrending feature of the summons is, 
'! that the parents should make the choice? 
i which of the five to take. Could heaven 
itself, or the fiend beneath, propose any- 
, thing more cruel? Says the mother, ''I 
cannot spare the babe.'^ A mother's love 
! to a child is the nearest comparison that 
language could convey, to illustrate the 
love of God to man. Says the father, " I 
have not power to lay my hand on one of 
I my offsprings and hand them over to thee, 
i thou King of Terror.'^ Even so, if one of 
( our five senses was demanded; it would be 

1 . ■ 



366 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



almost as cruel, if not impossible, for us to 
make a surrender of one of these. It is 
merciful in God, our Heavenly Father, in 
His providence, not to consult mortals as to 
•what gifts we are to surrender. Here is a 
feature of love and mercy, unbounded as it 
is; yet how little thought of. Divine Provi- 
dence did not consult us when B;e took oar 
children, our health, our propeyty, our eye- 
sight. The Lord gave, and Jjiie Lord has 
taken away, and blessed Idq His name. 
Amen. 



CHAPTEE XXXIY. 

Our reader has already learned, in previous 
chapters, that our book-selling to school 
district libraries had come to an end. He 
has seen us at the foot of a great many steep 
hills ; he has noticed our climbings as well 
as our tumblings, and that we were never 
more courageous, or abounding with more 
joyous hope, than when at the foot of the 
iiill, having the utmost confidence that 
there Vv'as a fortune for us at the summit 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



367 



■w'hen wo arrived at that desired spot. 
Through much toil, the bird so beautiful to 
the ambitious eye had plumed its wings and 
flown far away, and left us again compara- 
tively pennyless at the base of the moun- 
tain. But it has not been so in climbirg 
up Mount Zion ; it has been joyful and 
hopeful ] the Lord has given us feet like 
those of a hinde, that David prayed for; 
they are like those of a squirrel, they will 
never slip an inck, even upon a rock. He 
has also given us His filial fear in our 
hearts, that we should no more depart from 
Him. We have, therefore, settled the mat- 
ter long since, that we never would be seen 
in any company wdiere we could not take 
Jesus with us, or where he would not be 
cordially invited. All His works were done 
openly, no midnight curtains, no awful or 
blasphemous oaths are to be taken or ad- 
ministered to His friends to keep His se- 
cret ; but, on the contrary, they are com- 
manded to tell to all around what a dear 
Saviour they have found, and to put their 
light as a candle upon their heads, that all 
might behold it. This glorious light has 
already given us a keyhole view of our 



368 TEIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IX THE 

treasure, when we arrive to the sumaiit of 
Mount Zion, a bank that vvill never fail. 

We have given our reader an almost end- 
less variety of business transactions, with 
their results, and we think now we will fin- 
ish this chapter vvith the history of an old 
goose quill or steel pen, giving a history of 
the five difi'erent works that we have writ- 
ten, spreading over seventeen hundred 
pages. If we should, if possible, sum up 
all our acts and doings for forty years they 
would be but as dust in the balance as re- 
gards responsibility, as that of becoming an 
author. No king or potentate is capable of 
committing or trusting to a commodore the 
fleet or nav}^ of the most powerful nation 
on earth, or as an embassador to reconcile 
in the king's stead, one -nation that was at 
war with another. Such honors and such 
responsibilities fall, far below the honors 
and responsibilities of one who was truly 
called of God to preach the gospel, and re- 
concile as far as possible a rebellious world 
to a God of love; although they may be as 
unlearned and as humble in the eyes of a 
proud world as were the fishermen of Galli- 
lee. The Revelator says, " Blessed are the 



LIFE OF G. W. EEXRY. 



369 



dead that die in the. Lord.'' Yea," says 
the Spirit, the}^ do rest from their labors, 
and their works do follow them.'' When 
the tongue of a minister is silenced in death, 
in a great measure he is forgotten in a little 
while, and his influence dies away like the 
disappearing of the summer sun. Not so 
with an author, Thomas Pai'je's, as well 
as John Bunyan's books are in press to-da^^, 
although a century may have thrown the 
winter's suns over their graves. Both of 
these authors are sowiDg their seed in i^e 
hearts and minds of their readers. 

The Bible tells us that whatsoever a man 
soweth, that shall he also reap. Reader.^ 
pause here a moment, consider there is a 
harvest day at the end of the world. Which 
of these two celebrated authors do you 
think is sowing wheat and which is sowing 
tares? One will have a glorious harvest, 
and the other perdition, with its awful re- 
sults ; for their works, as well as ours, will 
follow us to the great Judgment Day. We 
believe we have preached as well as we 
knew how, to more ears the last twenty- 
eight years, than any other humble embas- 
sador of Christy that we know of, both in 



370 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

Canada and in America. We have to add to 
our preaching more than twenty thousand 
volumes of our writings, v/hich will be read 
long after the author and his quill will 
have returned to the dust from whence they 
^yeTe taken. We have not yet seen any 
thing of vital importance, that would mili- 
tate against the souls of the readers, or 
testimony that we wish blotted out, if this 
was our dying day. Still it would be 
strange, when w^e shall know as we 
aro known, it we should not find some er- 
roneous ideas, as we do not believe in nor 
claim infallibility to mortal man. The 
responsibility, either cf preachers or authors, 
is not left to the choice of him that is called 
of God ; although he may tremble in his 
boots, and feel like Moses, that he has a 
stammering tongue, or like a thousand 
others, who are called by the Holy Ghost 
to preach the unsearchable riches of the 
Gospel of Christ. At the same time he feels, 
W'Oe unto me if I preach not the Gospel; 
then he reads again, woe unto me if I do 
not declare the whole counsel of God; or as 
one standing on picket guard between the 
two contending arjnies ; if I see the destroy- 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



371 



er coinlDg, in wkatever garb or appearance 
he may adorn himself \Yith, and give not the 
alarm, then snrely the blood of sonls will be 
found on my garments. But he looks again 
and reads an encouraging promise : Lo ! I 
am with thee always — like young Isaiah, 
while his lips are yet glowing with seraphic 
fire, he exclaims, here am I, Lord, send me. 
But, says the reader, what you said about a 
call to preach, I am inclined to believe, but 
what evidence can you show us that God 
ever calls any one to write a book ? God 
said to JohUj write a book and send it to the 
churches. To be sure the Bible is called God's 
Book, as w^ell as His writings; as well as all 
the books that have been given to the joublic 
bearing mj name, are said to be my writ- 
ings; yet neither God nor myself ever moved 
a pen to form a single sentence. It is said 
that holy men of God spake and Vv^rote as 
they were moved by the Holy Ghost. The 
,j Prophets were God's golden pen or amanu- 
I ensis. So also with my writings, Milton's and 
! other blind authors, our amanuensis moves 
the quill as they catch the words from our 
lips. In speaking of our five difi'erent 
^; works, we shall have no need of mentionino; 



372 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



oiir own history. It is a very simple mat- 
ter for a cliild to repeat wliat lie remembers 
of liis own experience^ whether temporal or 
spiritual ; it is like repeating his alphabet. 
When God told me to write my history, it 
has been not a little snrprising to me that 
the acts of my life for half a century were 
as fresh to my mind as if I had kept a diary 
of every transaction. I think it was the 
year 1856 my Heavenly Father spake the 
second time nnto me, in terms not to be 
mista^ken, "Write a book;" and for many 
months before I took np my pen, I was 
burdened and travailed in birth, to write a 
book which bears the tittle of Wedlock and 
Padlock, Temporal and Spiritual. Although 
Apollyon opposed me inch by inch, yet in 
less than ten weeks a book of 461 pages was 
hatched out, well fledged, and began to 
light on the center tables of our many 
friends. The book was read and eulogized, 
as most of books are above their merits, by 
Christian pulpits and presses, enough to 
have made the autlior's ears itch, if we had 
not been thoroughly convinced that we 
could not have written more than one chap- 
ter on the subject of marriage without 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



373 



Divine lielp; therefore, if there Tras ar.T gloiy 
about it, it belongs to Him ttIio cpJlecl ns to 
^vrite. It is rather singular, among all the 
Christian libraries in the Old and Xew World 
there has never been a boot vrritten on the 
marriao^e of the Lamb, or of the Lamb's 
vrife; although every sacred writer of the 
Old and Kew Testament has made use of 
the marriage sjunbol more than aiiy other 
to illustrate the union of a soul with Christ. 
The fraternal ties of natural love that bind 
parents to children, brothers and sisters one 
to another, like a cluster of precious grapes, 
all united to one stem, is of a Heavenly and 
Divine origin ; but vrlien a child dies, and 
is laid in the grave, it is but a bird breaking 
oft" one of the grapes from the stem; it starts 
the tear of afl^ection, and every heart bleeds; 
but when death comes with his sharp cleav- 
er, and cuts asunder the marriage tie that 
has been so long cemented by conjugal love, 
it is like the lightning splitting asunder one 
half of the tree from branch to root, laying 
either father or mother in the damp and 
lonesome vault of death, leaves the other 
half of the tree with all its branches bleed- 
ing from every pore. When we speak of 



374 



TRIALS AND TRIUMAHS IN THE 



matrimony or true wedlock, we mean the 
kind that began in the Garden of Eden, 
where Jehovah himself pronounced them 
one, or like the wedding of Gallilee, where 
Jesns was invited to attend. A padlock 
represents a spurions marriage. The two 
locks mentioned are as unlike each other as 
two extremes can be. Genuine wedlock is. 
like the Ynlcan heating tv/o pieces of iron 
to a white fervent and equal heat, and with 
his hammer welds them together and ma.kes 
them one piece. Love, the genuine article, 
whether divine, parental or connubial, is 
symbolized in the Bible by fire. Unless 
the two parties are brought to a fervent heat 
or in a perfect blaze, like the burnin^o; bush, 
they can never be welded or united and 
pronounced one, whether it be in the tem- 
poral or spiritual, whether it be the lovely 
maiden, to her kingdom come, like Eebekah 
to her Isaac. Equally so, nothing but the 
love of God will make us forsake all, make 
us more than willing to join ourselves to 
Jesus, the husband of the church.. Padlock 
confines a prisoner unto the sentence of the 
law against his Vv ill ; it is a kind of mazter-d- 
money^ instead of matrimonj' ; or, what is 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



375 



still more cruel, sometimes it ends in mar- 
tyr-o^ -money ^ and a divorce is the disgraceful 
terminus. But as we have "written about 
the weddings from Paradise, until the last 
trump shall sound, when Christ, as a royal 
bridegroom, with all the flower of his court, 
shall come, to take to himself his royal and 
immortal bride, we will resiDectfuUy refer 
our reader to the book itself for further 
particulars, and hasten to speak of our third 
call to write a book. There is one particu- 
lar feature concerning our writings — they 
seem to be the book for the times, and 
among the hundred thousand volumes, with 
their endless variety of subjects, all have 
passed over the diflerent themes of which 
we have been called to vrrite ; and as 
children mostly bear the ima^e of their 
parents, so my friends, that read my works, 
sa3^, that they all look and talk like their 
lather, the author. We have had no book 
but the Bible to refer to ; with a very few 
exceptions, nine-tenths of our writings have 
been original, as the spider spins his web 
from his own bosom. It is an easy matter 
to write books as sermons, if all we have to 
do is to use the brains of some popular 



376 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



antlior, that lias given his thoughts to the 
press, and transcribe them to a few yards of 
foolscap, and then give them to the public 
as our own. We never knew whether to give 
credit to the preacher delivering a written 
sermon, or to a Spnrgeon or "Wesley, that 
has written the same thing, and has given 
it to the press. This is certainly not the old 
Apostolic or Methodist way of preaching, 
good and true as the sermons may be. 

The third book we are now called to 
write, is entitled Battles and Shontings of 
the Yictors in all Ages of the Church, that 
began at the birth of this infant globe^ when 
the stars sung anthems of praise, and the 
sons of God shouted for joy, until the shout 
of the arch-angel at the great Resurrection 
Morn, with numerous extracts from the Old 
and 'Sew Testament, and from the works ot 
Wesley, Evans, Edwards, Abbott, Cart- 
wright and Finly ; giving a history of the 
outward demonstrations of the spirit, such 
as laughing, screaming, shouting, leaping, 
jerking and falling under the power, &c., 
both genuine and spurious. Here is another 
rather singular coincidence, althougli the 
term '^shouting," like that of marriage, 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



I spangles the Old and Xew Testament, as 
the stars do the ethereal heavens at mid- 
^'ght. On this thenie^ and none other, 
ij could Vie lind a lodgm(^it In out brain, by 
I day or night, till we took np onr pen and 
1 brought forth a booh of 425 large 12 mo. 
|j pages. It was not only a healthy, but a 
i noisy child ; as like always begets like. 

Healthy parents bring forth healthy child- 
I ren. "When Zion or the Elect Lady travails 
in spiritual birth, her converts, if she is in 
I the bloom of health, will be healthy and 
noisy offspring. Heaven, earth and hell will 
know that a child is born, and better than 
all, the happy babe in Clirist will know it 
himself; he won't vrant fiesh and blood, 
whether in pulpit or pew, to tell him that 
he is born of God, an heir of heaven ; but, 
if the church is sickly, her converts will be 
like the premature birth of a chicken ; with 
one or two peeps, they keel over, and that 
is the last of them. They have to be 
squeezed like a sponge by their leader, to 
get a word about Jesus or salvation from 
their tongues. If they join the church, their 
only padlock, and you question them when 
they were born again, if they tell the truth, 



37 S TEIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

they Trill say, like Topsv, who said she never 
■was bora, 'speck she grew." This book 
was the most qiiarrelsome child of all our 
family ; it was like the Author of Salva- 
tion ; it was both hated and loved ; the real 
warm-hearted Christian devom'ed it as the 
silk worm does the mulberry leaf ; also the 
ontside world was somewhat tickled by 
perusing its pages, but the Pharisees would 
gnash their teeth upon it, and kick both 
book and author out of doors. 

A veiy spirited controversy arose be- 
tween the Editor of the Wesley Toronto 
Journal and a High School Episcopalian, in 
Canada; the latter charging all these out- 
ward demonstrations, such as shouting, fall- 
ing under the power, &c., as the work of 
the flesh and the devil. Mr. Wesley did 
the same thing the first few years of his 
Methodism, as he said in his own diary, 
until he had grieved the Holy Spirit, until 
he had almost taken his farewell of the 
church. His eyes vv^ere then opened, and 
he said he appointed a meeting a Fetter 
Lane, where he aiid several of his coadju- 
tors, as he said, got down on their knees and 
confessed to God the sin of blasphemy, and 



LIFE OF G. W. HE>^RY. 379 

when they were sufficiently humbled, be 
said God came again, and slew men and 
women, on the right hand and on the left, 
as in battle. This meeting perfectly cured 
the founder of the Methodist church of the^ 
sin of blasphemy; and I fear that many.at 
this day are spiking God's artillery, and 
grieving the Holy Spirit in the same way; 
but my patient reader, if he pleases or de- 
sires a fullness on this subject, may turn to- 
the book itself ; and here will end this 
chapter and look for another. 



CHAPTER XXXY. 

We now pass along to the fourth book 
which we wrote in the year 1861. Thsr 
following is the title page : Tell Tale Rag; 
and Popular Sins of the Day.'' In this 
book a cotton rag is made, as it were, a Uy- 
ing oracle, giving its own history, whilst: 
serving as raiment on twelve different mas- 
ters, relating each one of their secret, be^ 
setting and popular sins, from the time it 
was planted in the cofton fields of Soutb- 
Carolina until it became a portion of tli^: 



380 TniALS AND TRIUVFilS IX THE 

body of a glorified Saint in Heaven. The 
Holy Ghost, aoubtless, saw, as well as the 
lively members of the mystical body of 
Jesus, there was need of such a voice of 
warning; that the arch-Send appeared in 
his white dress, thrown over his black un- 
der garments, and that 'twas not tiie flagrant 
out-breaking sins that was causing a mil-j 
dew ai; .' ] : : th upon the church. It is 
what 5:. . : calls a spiritual adultery, a 
friendship v>^ith the wx)rld ; consequently, 
before they are avv^are, becoming the ene- 
mies of God, by the fashionable sins of the 
day, that the Bible condemns. We will, 
therefore, give the reader a sort of bird's- 
e3^e view of the popular and winked at sins 
oi Tell Tale's twelve masters : 

" Teli Tale Siig't hrst master was a South- 
ern slave-holder. On the first fifty pages 
of this vrcrk are exposed the -legalized, pop- 
L^lar and fashionable sins of the slave-hold - 
ingsvstem.both nationally and individually. 

Tl id master vrhose hands Tell Tale 

Eag iai.s into is a Xorthern slave-holder, in 
the city of Xew York, who is a kind of a 
cotton professor of religion, who, by virtue 
of a chattel morto;ao!:e, sells at auction all the 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



381 



negit)es, liogs» horses, and cotton, on the 
plantation of In's tirst master. In him Tell 
Tale shows how the interest of this iniqnitv 
is interwoven as a wel) with the Xorth and 
Sonth, both in Chnrch and State ; which 
takes np abont l^ventY pages of the book. 

The third master of Tell Tale was a cot- 
ton manufacturer at the Pemberton Mills. 
Mass. By liini' Tell Tale exposes many 
fashionable sins of the day, by mixing reh'g- 
ion with tlie world, spiritual and political 
adultery. This master was a fusionist, a 
compromiser, as he would card together cot- 
ton and wool, give it a beautiful color, 
weave it into a web, then swear it off upon 
his customers as all wool. In this way Tell 
Tale says many church members are tusing 
and compromising with the Avorld, the flesh 
and the Devil, expecting to pass current into 
Heaven, as pure Anglo-Saxon. 

The fourth master of Tell Tale was a 
retail merchant in Central Xew York^ who 
was also an Oddfello^^ and Freemason. By 
this time Tell Tale is made into a cotton 
web, and is h\id on a conspicuous place 
over the counter, wliere he takes notes in 
short-hand of the popuhir and fashionable 



382 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



lying, which is so prolific between mer- 
<3hant and cnstonier, as^the process of jewing 
down is going on among all traders of the 
day. Tell Tale also then exposes many 
fashionable, silent, deceptive falsehoods 
made up of perrywigs, dye stulfs, paints, 
glass eyes, &c. After that he takes np the 
subject of secret societies. On this subject 
several, other rags in the scavenger's bag 
relate their experience while warming the 
backs of several individuals of the fraternity, 
and after listening to ten or fifteen pages ot 
cotton field theology from Uncle Sam and 
_Aunt Dinah in their own language, on the 
snbjectof the forbidden fruit. 

Tell Tale is then sold to his fifth master, 
who was a blind man, who also entered 
into contract to publish the history of Tell 
Tale Eag. Tell Tale was. now soon warm- 
ing and comforting the lim.bs and body of 
Ms new master, where he takes up about 
^ sixty pages ot the volume, in dissecting his 
new master, joint after joint, exposing the 
plague spots of sin on his soul .and body, 
dragging into day light many abominable 
fashionable sins his new master was guilty 
of while he was dashing in the world, 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. . 38P~ 

previous to his natural blindness and relig- 
ious experience. Speaking also of several 
high peaks of wordly glory, from whence hi& 
master was several times tumbled down to- 
the mud-sills of degradation, where grace at 
last gets her arms around him. and, step bj 
step, bears him along until she sets him 
down in the land of Beulah. 

The sixth master will comprise a short 
history of happy John, showing how deep 
rum had sunk him into the slough of degra- 
dation and misery, and to what heights 
grace has elevated him, ta purity, holiness 
and unfading honors. 

The seventh master whose hands Tell 
Tale now falls into, was a scavenger, whose 
occupation was to gather up rags that were 
scattered in the streets of the city, and stow 
them into his bag ; one oi which happened 
to be nothing less than the author of Tell 
Tale Rag, who had been worn out in the^ 
service of his blind and fifth master ; thjen.:' 
torn into rags and served his sixth master a& 
a sticking plaster on his .gangrened shins; 
from thence to the gutter, where he wa& 
drawn forth bj his seventh master, the 
scavenger. Several interesting anecdotes-' 



5 Si TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THB 

are related by the rags, while assembled at 
Kag Bag Hah:, v.nt:! they vrere prirchased by 
a paper mahe:\ '/"ho becomes the eighth mas- 
ter ot Tell Tale : and from whence he 
dictates thi^ ";':ime 

At this _ c:;?ral assemljly of rags, several 
convention^ ^vh be called, vrliere the iash- 
ionable and onlar sins of the day will be 
freely discn-r^ : snch as Sabbath breaking, 
liop growing ::o distilleries, tobacco chewing 
and smoking, rxtravogant wardrobe, jewel- 
ry, and other ontv'oi'd adornings, bnying 
and selliuo " v oi'aising God by machine- 
ry, togetl.rs -^ith other kindred topics, 
•which wih 'o? freely discnssed, for and 
against, by nosnibers of the rag convention 
from all posv :: tho —^'o^Id : and when the 
convention s"':os;o:^ tliey vnll then be 

gronnd to pin" -j inr^:- j^'aper. assort- ' 

ed accord::..:' t: :he:r dirferent tamily rela- 
tions; spir:: : ' ' in tliis last process, a 
work of pnriii : :o::; and holiness, until Tell 
Tale is made into a pnre white sheet, with- 
out spot or Avrinldec when he soon exchanges 
owners and becomes tlie property of the 
American Bible Society, in the city of IS'ew 
York, whose principal Agent becomes his 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



385 



nintli master, and yery soon Tell Tale finds 
himself a beautiful bound family Bible, on 
whose pure leayes the impress of all the 
exceeding great and precious promises are 
printed, in the Chinese language. 

About this time a dashing young lady is 
soundly conyerted to God, and exchanges 
her jewelry for the honorable Tell Tale Eag, 
personated in Jehoyah's own book. 

His next and tenth master was a Mission- 
ary, who carried him with safety oyer the 
rolling tide, and entered with him through 
a breach in the Chinese wall, which was 
made exclusiyely for a gospel gate, with 
Brit ton's Artillery. 

Tell Tale is now presented by the Mis- 
sionary in the name of Jesus Christ to a 
Heathen Father, who. becomes his eleyentli 
master ; and as he begins to read the sacred 
pages, the great eye-opener that walked in 
disguise with the two disciples, on their 
way to Emmaus, stood, says Tell Tale, un- 
seen by my master, at his elbow, and opened 
unto him the sacred truth on the leayes of 
this spiritual tree, which lie held in his lap^ 
a healing balm for all nations; and as he 
read he belieyed, and was sayed. Then he 



3&6 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



pressed the water of life to the thirsty lips 
of his wife and children, and very soon, 
says Tell Tale, my master's house became a 
house of prayer. The leaven being well hid i 
in the meal, and in short, a great revival of ! 
religion ensued, until the promises on Tell ' 
Tale became obliterated, both by x"^enitent, 
and joyous tears, until it was literally worn 
out and new Bibles taking its place ; • Tell 
Tale was then cast into the garden, where 
soon it was reduced to the same dust from 
whence it originated in the cotton fields. A 
hill of corn was planted in the soil made 
fertile by the death and decay of Tell Tale,„ 
and by its vegetating powers soon trans- 
formed the remains of Tell Tale into its^ 
tender blade, until it became the full ripe 
corn in the ear. The corn was then made- 
into bread, which Avas eaten by a Chinese 
Missionary ; and now Tell Tale Eag ha& 
become the outer man, flesh and blood of 
one of God's heralds ; and when his war- 
fare was ended Tell Tale was encoffined^ 
where he was the third time reduced to 
dust, and remains sleeping until the blast of 
the archangel, who will announce the com- 
ing of his twelvth master, that will in a 



■ LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 387 

inoment transform the dust of Tell Tale 
into a royal mansion, an eternal habitation 
of the redeemed spirit of his eleventh and 
Missionary master. 

This will be the last and eternal change 
of the masters of Tell Tale Eag, for he will 
then be satisfied as he wakes np in the like- 
ness of his Lord and master Jesus Christ. 
Amen. Hallelujah." 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Dear reader, we hope you are not wearied, 
or jonr patience gone overboard in listen- 
ing to what we have said about our old 
quill, that has been made to say so many 
things about this, that and the other. Suffer 
us to speak and comment a little on the last 
book we ever wrote. It is certainly a 
strange book, you will say, for a Methodist 
to write ; and if we ever were bound to 
take a ship for Tarsus, like Jonah, and re- 
fuse to wag the quill, it was to write this 
small work — nearly one hundred large 
pages — which we finally submitted to, rath- 



388 TETALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

er than do worse, in the summer of 186T^ 
soon after the death of my youngest son, 
Maxwell. The book bears the title of 
"Fresh Laurels from the Garden of Eden,'^ 
Five or ten j-.ears previous to that date, not 
men or devils could have persuaded us to 
write as we did ; but w^e had no rest, day 
or night ; this very theme, and none other, 
was the alpha and omega of our thoughts ; 
and after refusing from time to time, the 
Lord crippled us wuth rheumatism so that 
we could not lie upon our bed ; what rest 
\Ye had, by day .or night, was in a rocking 
chair, until we cried out, I 3^ield, I yield, 
and employed a j^oung lady as amanuensis ; 
and I think rin about three weeks the book 
was written, bound, and in market. The 
principal object of the writer was to sepa- 
rate judicial predestination, election, and 
fore-oidination, from free grace, which the 
devil has been compounding and mixing in 
his theological mortar for many centuries ; 
and while we refute, and scout back to per- 
dition from whence it came, the High Cal- 
vinism that God predestinated some to be 
saved, and some to be lost, without any re- 
spect to moral character or volition of will, 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



389 



i which we think is the most God-dishonor- 
iug doctrine ever uttered by human lips, 
notwithstanding both the Old and Xew 
Testaments are laden with God^s irrevoca- 
ble decrees, and his predestination, which 

: will be as unchangable in purpose as the 
author of our being, and we give glory to 
God for it. The Bible would be no better 
to us than a last year's almanac, were it not 
for God^s eternal purpose concerning, the 
salvation of Adam's race. We might make 
a covenant wdth the wealthiest prince on 
earth, and his promises might fail, if ours 
did not ; but the Word of God is the rock 
that we plant our feet upon, and stand and 
rejoice with the full assurance of hope, that 

• on the simple condition ol our cheerful 
obedience and faithfulness to the end of 
the race, we should receive a crown of im- 
morteil and eternal life. Jehovah has de- 
creed from the beginning that he that be- 
lieved and was babtized should be saved : 
and his decree is just as irrevocable that he 
that believeth not should be damned. Not 
a word of prophecy, of past, present, or 
future, that has not, or will not, be fulfilled 
to the letter; even t:) the crucifixion and 



390 TRIALS AND TRIUMAHS IN THE 



ijesurrection of Jesus. Was it not fore* - 
ordained and predestinated that Jesus 
should ride into Jerusalem on an ass, cen- 
turies before it transpired, it would hava-^ 
been impossible for him, without disobey-- 
ing his Father, the Holy Ghost, to have 
done otherwise. If he had rode on a horse,, 
or in a chariot, the skeptic and infidel might 
truly say. That is one prophecy that has 
failed; and if one has failed, what confidence 
have we in those prophetic words that are 
not fulfilled ? What confidence, said they^ . 
could we have in that, as yet, unfulfilled de- 
cree or prophecy of the resurrection of our 
bodies ? 

Predestination, election, and fore-ordina- 
tion, have become to us ^the back-bone and 
spinal marrow of the rest of our faith. We- 
have said that the fall of Adam and Eve, in 
the garden, was, to every believer, like the 
losing of a penny and the finding of a 
guinea. We do not think it was any sur- 
prise to the Lord, when he came into the 
garden, in the cool of the day, to inquire 
after the newly married pair. He could 
see them behind the bushes as well as in 
broad light, preparing aprons from fig- 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXKY. 



391 



leaves/not to cover their backs, but to place 
them where the grace of modesty would, 
which had been brought to light by eating 
from the tree of knowledge. We cannot 
believe that our Heavenly Father intended 
to colonize this globe with unnumbered 
millions of naked men and women, and add- 
ed to nakedness blindness. The fruit, it is 
said, opened their eyes, and discovered to 
them their nakedness. God said. What 
shall we do with man ? he has become as 
one of us, knowing both good and evil. Do 
you think, reader, that God intended to 
people this earth with millions of idiots, 
not knowing either good or evil, not know- 
ing as much as a clam or an oyster ? — they 
will quickly discern betwixt salt water and 
fresh ; and surely the first thing their Ma- 
. ker did was to clothe each one with a suit 
of furs. There have been sermons enough 
preached and written to cover acres of 
ground, the preacher putting on a long^ 
face, prefacing his sermon by saying what 
a pity Adam and Eve should have partaken 
of that fruit of the tree of knowledge. To 
be sure, Moses says it was attractive to the 
eye, delicious to the taste, and designed to 



392 



TPJALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



make tie partaker wise, as Aunt Dina.li 
says " knowledge means 'sperience/' It is 
\vritten. Adam knew his wale, and she bore 
him a son. What a pity, says another, that 
the Lord should make that snake, that old 
serpent, as it is written, " the serpent was 
more subtle than any beast of the field the 
Lord God made. Alas, how oft we bring 
Jehovah up to the bar of mortals, and m our 
hearts condemn him for some things we 
read in the Bible. 

But I must cease to wag my pen on this 
subject. I have given the reader a key- 
hole view of the work, and we are fully sat- 
isfied that it is the greatest blessing that 
ever happened to the world; that Adam and 
Eve did, as we think, just as their Maker 
designed they should. But the reader will 
have to peruse the book before he can learn 
fully the views of the author, and w^e have 
been astonished that the book has been re- 
ceived as W'e]l as it has, and digested by a 
majority of the readers ; and we have writ- 
ten no book we Vv^ould more cheerfully car- 
ry in our hand to the judgment, than w^e 
would this little production, in flat contra- 
diction to the most part of eighteen hun- 
dred 3-car&' theology. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



393 



We have, tli«s far, given the reader a 
history of our proseology, and we will taper 
off and wind up for a kind of an anchovia^ 
or a little of . our home-made poetrv. illus- 
trating, in some measure, the theme of the 
above work. We do not remember of ever 
making a single verse of poetr}', doggerel 
as it might be, in our whole life, until about 
six months after disposing of about a thou- 
sand " Fresh Laurels.'^ Some of our best 
brethren would eat them and di<rest them, 
and now and then one would throw it back 
in our face, (so to speak.) It made no little 
stir in the stereotype or cast-iron theology 
of the day. We were at the Rome poor- 
house one Sabbath morning, and were awa- 
kened a while before day, when we were 
visited with a kind of poetical spirit ; and, 
I think, before we got up, we composed in 
our mind about • twenty of the following 
verses ; they became at once as familiar to 
us as our alphabet ; and I told my wife, 
when I got home, that I had one strong 
symptom of lunacy in my brain, as that is 
among the first symptoms premonitory to 
insanity. Bat, says the reader, let us have 
the poetry. ^. 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 
DEA.TH OF OLD TBADITIOK 

The first commandment Adam knew, 
Was to multiply and replenish, 

And with his hands this earth subdue, 
And thorns and tares demolish. 

If" Fresh Laurels" is not mistaken,' 
It was at first Jehovah's notion 

That preacher, plow, and pen, 
Should ever be in motion. 

Old Tradition says, not so. 

And does to his hearers tell. 
We should have nothing now to do 

If Adam had not fell. 

Oh, glorious boon of idleness,. 

Tradition says, from the God of Love, 
Without a blush for nakedness. 

And without a Christ to love. 

There stood in Eden a knowledge tree. 
Perdition calls its fruit pernicious, 

Set there to tempt my wife and me. 
Which Moses calls delicious. 

Yea, the Lord himself pronounced it good, 

And much to be desired. 
And when this truth was understood, 

It all our nature fired. 

All its fruit was very fair, 

And designed to make us wise, 

And sure, the truth we must declare, 
It opened both our eyes. 







LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 395 

Ohl what a pity we should mind 

Or listen to the devil, 
We might remain forever blind, 

Not knowing good or evil. 

Without a single blush, 

No more than cat or cattle, 
Without small clothes to wash, , 

Or little tongue to prattle. 

Oh, what a marvelous thing, 

Cried modesty ana lover, 
The Lord then made us coats of skin, 

Our naked limbs to cover. 

Sure, summer and winter were ordained. 
And our limbs might sometimes freeze, 

We might have walked a little lame. 
But there'd been no lussing with those leaves. 

Then all our gentle folks 

Migiit have loitered and have lingered, 
Had nothing to do but dance and joke, 

Without soiling foot or finger. 

Then, there's his snakeship, too, 

How quiet in his lair. 
With nothing on earth for him to do, 

But now, Oh, what a liar. 

We should had no foe to fight, or victor song,. 

No going forth to battle, 
But with that inglorious throng, 

We might forever tittle tattle. 

We should have had no new song to sing, 
Of redemption's glorious boon. 



396 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



Or Sabbath bell to ring, 
Either morning, night, or noon. 

About two hundred years ago, 
Yy^ith Gallileo there was found 

A little book, you know. 
That declared the earth was round. 

Old Tradition was now enraged, ° 
And declared tlie earth was flat, 

And sent to the tiamcs each lying page, 
To be. the end of that. 

•Gallileo was then sent to jail, 

AYithout a single friend, 
There was not a man would go his bail, 

Yov such a pamphlet he had penned. 

But now, of late, another strife. 

Or kind of tamily quarrel. 
For old Tradition lost his life 

By eating a " Fresh Laurel." 

" Fresh Laurels" and Gallileo, 

For wagging such a quill, 
May both of them to prison go. 

But old Tradition must be killed. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Dear reader, in the foregoing chapters you 
Lave listened to the birth of five literary 
children, or books, not from our loins ac- 
cording to the flesh, but from our garret. 



LIEE OF G. W. HENRY. 



397 



our upper story, Avhere all good and evil 
originate. The fleshy heart of man has no 
more to do with believing or disbelieving 
a, truth., than has our liver or lungs; they 
have their office assigned to them by their 
Maker. If the brain is affected with luna- 
cy, or fractured by accident, the heai t may 
still go on as a self-moving pump, sending 
the crimson tide of life, like lightning, to 
every extremity of our bodies; but the 
brain is the seat of love or hatred, belief or 
unbelief. Those faculties impaired, you 
might as well preach to a heathen idol, 
with the same effect. 

We are now to talk to you a little while 
on a very different subject, both solemn 
and important. Preaching the gospel and 
writing books, as we have remarked, are 
freighted with great responsibilities ; in 
scumming up all the acts of our life and 
crowding them into a niit-shell, would be of 
little importance, comparatively, to what is 
to happen to all of us. There is one cur- 
tain yet to risC) a thousand times more im- 
portant than mortals ever thought or 
dreamed of, which you and I, dear reader, 
are soon to behold for ourselves, amazing 



398 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



and startling as it may be. It is an ancient 
and familiar word; we talk and laugh and 
sometimes cry about it. "We mean that 
curtain in the programme that shall, drop 
between us and all our earthly friends ; 
when another curtain will rise and intro- 
duce us to our immortal and eternal home. 
Eeader, you and I have been marching 
from our birth, every tick of our watch, 
and every pulsation of our heart, have 
been one step, whether sleeping or waking, 
towards this curtain. We have become as 
familiar with the word death as any house- 
hold word; our ears have become as famil- 
iar with the church-tolling bell, as to say 
somebody has lost a friend. Did you know,, 
reader, that the clock that stands upon 
your mantle tells you in the the most sol- 
emn tone, every sixty minutes, that a kind 
friend has departed forever from you? — 
an hour of time for you to prepare for a 
dying day, and an untrodden, unexplored 
eternity ! Alas, what would that old or 
young man give, who has just had the bolt 
of that terrible dungeon sprung upon him 
by the turnkey, there to remain during his 
natural life, buried alive; I say, what would 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



399 



Tie give if he could turn a somersault back 
of that hour that he committed the dread- 
ful deed ! Much more the lost soul would 
value that friendly hour, or hours, he wast- 
ed or neglected, and so little heeded, when 
despair has taken the place of hope. 

We think we should make a broken link 
in our narrative, if Ave did not speak of the 
five rather peculiar deaths that happened 
in our household; peculiar, mostly, because 
they were so sudden and unlooked for. If 
the reader has read the eighth chapter of 
this work, he is already informed of the 
sudden death of our first born, Frances 
Clarissa, two years and a half old. You 
.will remember it was the day the Lord 
took us prisoner in the glen of the Alle- 
gany mountains, whilst breaking the Sab- 
bath, on our way from our steam mills to 
Berkley Springs ; and, like Saul of Tarsus, 
we turned our carriage about with our wdfe 
and two little children. Our little Fanny 
w^as an idol, and, I think, the handsomest 
child I ever saw. She took supper as usual 
with the family, while her wicked father 
lay upon the couch trembling, in conse- 
quence of an arrow in his heart, from the 



400 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE- 



quiver of the lion of the tribe of Judali, 
Soon alter our darling Fauny had eaten 
her supper, death came in, as a ravenous 
wolf, and within ten or fifteen minutes pre- 
pared the little lamb for the cooling board, 
and her beautiful form to become a ban- 
quet for worms. This I reckon as among 
the most important days of my life; it was 
trie day I started for my home in glory. 

The next death of which we shall speak, 
happened in 1846. It is that of Charles 
Emory, eleven weeks old, a little Night 
Blooming Cereus — a very healthy child. 
We had had a glorious prayer meeting that 
night in our cottage, preparing us for the 
unlooked for trial. This little unconscious 
idol of the mother, nursed at eleven o'clock 
and cuddled down as usual to sleep. Just 
at that solemn hour when night and morn- 
ing meet, we were awakened by his cries, 
and by the time we could get a lamp light- 
ed his little lamp of life was blown out, and 
the bird fled from his cage. The particu- 
lars we have written in the twenty-third 
chapter. 

We have now three more deaths to speak 
of, which have happened since we laid 



LIFE OF G. Tf. IIEXRY. 



401 



down our pen at the end of cLapter tbii'ty- 
first. Y\ 'e are now to speak briefly of tlie 
departure of our aged mctlier. We have al- 
ready spoken of her conversion, in the year 
1812, \vhen she connected herself with the 
M. E. Church, and how she continued to 
pray, like the Canaanitish woman, for her 
only child, until the day those lips were 
sealed in death, if death it may be called. I 
think it w^as the year 1857, (my step-father 
had died a few^ months previous,) when she 
came to live with us at Oneida. The morn- 
ing previous to her death,' she ate her 
breakfast as usual with the family. For 
one of her age, she was uncommonly 
healthy, plump and fair, cheerful and hap- 
py in the love of God. Her last work, per- 
haps at nine or ten o^clock, she was learn- 
ing our little boy a child's prayer. She 
soon after related to us a vision she had 
had the night before, which seemed to 
have made a deep impression on her mi];d. 
She said she saw herself divested of all her 
own apparel, and then was clad in a long 
.white robe, spotless and pure; and said she, 
George, I examined it very particularly 
to see if it was mixed with cotton, and 



402 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IX THE 



found it to be pure linea, wliich represents 
the righteousness of the saints; and I think/' 
said she, I shall soon be called to the mar- 
riage supper of the Lamb.'' Soon after 
that she was taken with a slight pain in 
her left arm, and concluded she would ga 
into her chamber, and cover up warm in 
her bed, that it might soon subside. I went 
with her to se her well covered, and the 
vision of the white robe seemed to be so 
vividly painted on her mind, that she re- 
marked : think, my son, I shall soon he 
gone.*' I said, Mother, you are not afraid 
to go ?" As if surprised that I should ask 
such a question, she answered, Why, no, 
my dear son, what should I be afraid of, 
when I have Jesus so preciously with 
me ?" I then pressed my lips to the lips 
of my mother, which she returned with 
the impress of a mother's love?. We had 
barely got down stairs and taken our seat, 
to dictate to Mrs. H. in writing a letter for 
me, and mother had taken her seat in her 
rocking-chair by the side of me, when a 
neighbor came in and began to converse 
with her, and in less than five minutes she 
Bhouted, " I shall soon be home,'' and fel^ 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



back lifeless in her chair, without the least 
struggle or wink of an eye. We again^ 
kissed those lips that began to be chilled 
in death, and thanked God that she did not 
depart until she had seen the fruits of forty 
years^ prayers in the conversion and salva- 
tion of her only son and daughter-in-law 
and one of her grand-children. So sudden 
a death brought forth floods of tears, but 
the joy of hope, of surely meeting our 
mother again at the wedding, made thosa 
tears as sweet as honey from the rock. . 

We can scarcely forbear saying a word 
or two about this robe, before we cease to- 
speak of her death. At the time of my 
mother's conversion, sixty years ago, Meth- 
odists were read and known by their plain^ 
uniform wearing apparel, as well as their 
devotion to God, in wide contrast to the 
fashionable adornings of the world. They 
took their fashion from the Bible, rather 
than from France. My step-father was a 
Universalist, and a profound hater of Meth- 
odists, and a sore persecutor of our mother;^ 
but when he found that persecution only 
served to drive her nearer the throne, he 
concluded to make an effort to bribe or buy 



40i TRIALS AXD TRir:<I?RS IX THE 

her oti from Jesus. " Now/' said he, Clara, 
if you ^'^^1 your back upon those bawl- 
ing, sbouriiig ITethodists, and go with rhem 
no more. I will buv you the best dress the 
city of Urica can produce/' Almighty 
Grace was on hand to sustain the youn^ 
convert in that hour of peril. 'My hus- 
band/' said she, ** when I come t3 die. I 
shall need a far better dress rl:au rue city 
of U::::. can produce. I f : " ' ;fd 
she, ' :ne white r:": r :: C us- 
ness without i:. AAe ..a .;^,. ^A.:...^ee^ 
I shall : r : uud hand and foot, and be cast 
from :f iage supper of the Lamb./' 

And it ^icms that same robe ^ as on L nd 
and ready for her dying day. G-fary : j God 
on high. 

The next death we shall speak of, is of 
our daughter Florence, who jou haxe been 
introduced to in a former chapter, at the 
time of her conversion, when she was about 
twelve years old. We shall pass over many 
incidents in her life, until ^he was about 
nineteen years old, when she \<*as married 
to a gentleman by the name of H. D. 
Hitchcock, a wealthy, but imconvertedman. 
So'ju --oir -marria^re, ^.IjI" ^'II']! a tri^ » 



LIFE OF Cr. TT. HEXKY. 



405 



to South America, ' and in about one vear 
retiu^ned again to Oneida. Mr. H. built a 
princely residence near Oneida, in udiicli 
they lived until the day of her death. Dur- 
ing the few days of her last sichness. she 
"was favored with a heavenly vision, which 
we liave not space here .to relate, which 
much encouraged her to meet the last enemy, 
A few moments i:^revious t^:> ]:er . as 

she saw herself go::-^\ : l: ^- - ar- 
rangements for her luneral. direL:::_ r.ain, 
white apparel, without the least ornament 
for her buriel equippage. recraesting the Eev. 
William Jerome to preach her funeral 
sermon, her last words, we believe, she 
said to her nurse, were, Oh, my poor blind 
lather, my poor blind father.'' Do you 
wish to see himT* ashed the nui ve. " Oh 
no," said she, I shall not have time." She 
then, in the very glare of death, said to Mrs. 
J., ^* Tell him I now remember all the 
words my tather ever spohe to me f 
and thus my only daughter passed away. 
A verv lono; train of carriao;es followed her 
remains to the cemetery, showing their 
respect as far as they could to the beloved 
dead. 



406 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



One more, and the last we shall speak 
^of in this chapter, is that of my youngest 
son, Maxwell Brown, who departed this life 
on the ninth day of March, 1868, fifteen 
years and six months old. Thousands, yea, 
tens of thousands have looked upon his 
lovely face and tiiose S23eaking black eyes, 
that was light and a guide to his blind 
father to a great many camp-meetings, and 
other gospel feasts, in both Canada and 
in America. He was converted two years 
previous to his death, at the time of a re- 
vival in the Baptist Church in Oneida, 
under the labors of the Eev. Hiram Eeed, 
the Baptist Evangelist. About six months 
previous to his death he was occupied as 
clerk in a store. If there was ever a picture 
of noble manhood and beauty personated 
in mortal flesh, it was in that boy ; so said 
all who beheld him — the hope and staff of 
his parents in old age. He was the babe 
in the lap of his mother, as seen in the steel 
engraving in our history. But, whilst in 
the store, death laid hold of him with an 
unyielding grasp, and never let go his hold 
until he had finished his work. He lay nine 
days witli the congestion of the brain. The 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



407 



last six or seven days, reason was complete- 
ly dethroned. Durino; his sickness we were 
oft at the throne of grace, and twenty-two 
hours out of twenty-four, watching by his 
bedside. We told the Lord, if he must take 
him, in our heart w^e said, thy will be done. 
We also told the Lord, and this may seem 
a little presumptuous, that we should not 
consent to his departure without his reason 
returning, so as to recognize his parents and 
bid them farewell. We left his bed to do 
some business up town, and speedily re- 
turned, where we found neighbors and 
friends weeping and watching, as they sup- 
posed, to see him cross the riyer in his little 
life boat, which he had secured at his con- 
version. Regardless of every thing around 
US, we knelt at his couch, and seized hold of 
his hand, wdth a heart broken to pieces, 
and cheeks bathed with tears. If the throne 
of grace was ever beseiged, or the kingdom 
taken by violence, it was at this solemn 
moment. I looked my kind Father in the 
face, and told him that my dear son could 
not depart from me without a good bye — 
without recoo-nizino; his blind father. He 
was all this time perfectly insane, selling 



408 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



goods to customers in wild delirium. All 
at OHce, as we still held him bv the hand, 
reason mounted her throne, and for two 
minutes swayed her scepter in peace. My 
son then turned himself towards me, and 
laid his hand ui3on my tearful cheeks and 
"exclaimed in a pathos and tone never to be- 
forgotten, " Oh, my father, my dear father," 
and turned himself back, and reason again 
left her throne, and a little while after, his 
breath grew shorter and shorter, and like a 
summer's sun, passed away out of sight. 
But we must close . this long chapter, by 
saying, his funeral sermon was preached by 
Kev. David McFarland, a Baptist minister, 
and it Avas said to be the largest convocation 
of people on any funeral occasion ever con- 
vened in that place, unless it Vv^as the fune- 
ral of President Lincoln. Our only child, 
G. W., is now living in the State of Indiana, 
twenty-eight or nine years old, unmarried. 



CHAPTER XXXYIII. 

Eeader, in the last chapter, we have stood 
by the side of the dying and the dead ; we 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 409 



have seen lover and friend turn pale and 
removed far from ns ; we have heard the 
death rattle, as the vraters of Jordan went 
over them ; we have said, like Abraham, 
" Give me a piece of ground, that I may 
bury my beloved Sarah from my sight." 
We have followed them to the grave, and 
we have heard the tumbling clods fall from 
the shovel of the sexton on the coflSn of five 
of our household. Alas, how solemn ! it was 
like distant multering thunder in our ears ; 
and at the time, like Each el, for her slain 
children, we refused to be comforted ; tears 
would flow from manly eyes ; we saw as in 
a glass, our own mortality, and we said with 
-the poet : 

*• How shocking is thy summoa^, Oh, death." 

As we returned home, another flood of 
tears gushed forth ; there lay the cooling 
board, and the cast off apparel, and like old 
Jacob, years after Joseph was sold into 
Egypt, as he beheld the rent and bloody 
coat of his son, whom he supposed was torn 
to pieces by the wild animals, bathed his 
wrinkled cheeks again vritli 'tears. But 
then we turned to the Bible and heard 
Jesus say to the heart-stricken mourners, 



410 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



tliy brother shall rise again therefore 
we do not sorrow as those that have no 
hope. Have you ever thought, reader, 
what a blessing it is, that our dead friends 
at once begin to turn to corruption and 
putrefaction ? If they were preserved in 
an incorruptible state, we could scarcely 
get our own consent to bestow them to the 
grave-worm to devour. Oar houses would 
be lumbered with the dead. 

If we stop and consider, we will see. that 
our Heavenly Father doeth all things well: 
but when our loved ones are concealed 
from our vision, and the grass has grown 
over the little mound, our tears are dried 
from our cheeks, and they are in a measure 
forgotten. Volumes have been written on 
the grace of memory, but all, as far as we 
know, have been silent in eulogizing what 
is an equal virtue, namely forgetfulness, 
In one sense, it is God-like to forget, and 
fiend-like to remember, and not forgive. 
The covenant ,that God has made with 
poor sinners, when they lay at his feet a 
broken heart and contrite spirit, though 
crimsoned in sin, he says to them, Son or 
daughter, thy sins, which were many, are 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



411 



all forgiven thee;'^ and. what is best of all, 
he says he will remember them no more. 
He will blot them out, every line of them ; 
he will cover with the blood of Jesus every 
page where both the least and the greate?t 
sins are recorded. We say it is wicked 
and fiend-like, and keeps a little hell in our 
own souls, not to forgive from our hearts 
both real and imaginary injuries inflicted 
on our person or character. Continual re- 
membrance of such things is apt to set our 
tongues on fire of hell, and keep our whole 
soul a raw sore, and what is worse, the con- 
demnation of Heaven resting upon us. On 
the other hand, to forget God, and not re- 
cord his mercies every day of our life, is 
among the most damning sins ; the sin of 
ingratitude for favors received from God 
or man, is one of the blackest on record. 
Still, how little it is thought of by mortals. 

Eeader, what we have said above is a 
kind of John the Baptist, to prepare the 
way for another theme; as he came, you 
know, to herald the Saviour's advent, as al- 
so his crucifixion ; as it is written, if we 
are crucified with him, we have the promise 
of reigning with him in heaven. 



412 TEIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



We are dov\^ about to speak, of what 
seemed to us at the time a sore trial and a 
crucifixion, which,* God knows, caused cair 
hearts, to bleed freely. If an enemy had 
done it, said Darid, vre could have borne 
it, but it was a familiar friend, mine equal,, 
those that had v/alked with me as loving 
brethren to the. courts of the Lord's house. 
I a'm now about to speak of the cause of 
my leaving the M. E. Church, something I 
no more dreamed of than that of leaving 
my wife and children, for I think I almost 
idolized the Methodist . Church. Thank 
God, T love her still ; she is my spiritual 
mother ; in my infantile state, when I 
scarcely knev>^ my right hand from my left, 
she put her Christian arms around me ; I 
nursed from the bosom of the Elect Lady — 
as Peter says, young converts desire the 
pure milk of the word, that they may grow 
up as calves of the stall. The ti5 of Chris- 
tian or brotherly love has never been sev- 
ered ; we have worshiped and been blessed 
wdth them oftentimes, as in former days. 
I think it was in the j^ear 18G5, at the time 
the Rev. E. Eddy, of Cazenovia, was sta- 
tion preacher at Oneida. My licenses as a 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



413 



local preacher had been renewed annually 
for twenty years, without a single remark 
against me. The Rev. brother Cook was 
Presiding Elder ; the time had now gome 
at the close of the conference year, for the 
renewal of licenses, as well as much other 
church business. The cjuestion was then 
asked by the Presiding Elder, if there was 
anything against brother Henry. The 
preacher in charge answered, Nothing, Sir, 
against his moral character or piety, but, 
said he — and this word hut commenced a 
trial . which lasted about two midnight 
hours. But, said the preacher in charge, 
he preaches for the Free Methodists, and 
sympathizes with them, and it must be 
stopped. And then the trial commenced 
cn this simple accusation ; 7:10 other charge 
was intimated ; and if I had declared the 
charges untrue, I should have lied, like An- 
nanias, to the Holy Ghost. It is an old and 
true saying, that birds of a feather flock 
together ; a live. Holy Ghost sanctified 
body of Christians, whom Christ has 
made free from sin and its jconsequences, 
from a man-pleasing or a man-fearing spirit, 
I acknowledge I am a bird of the same 



41-1 TRIALS AND TRIUilPHS IN THE 

feather. I was hatched out in the same 
nest ; the bird did not have a premature 
birth ; we came out of the shell of our pris- 
on fully fledged. You have already read 
the chapter speaking of our conversion. 
Our captivity was 'turned back, and our 
mouth filled with holy laughter, followed 
by victorious shoutings, which have con- 
tinued with us to the present day: perhaps 
more than two haudred times we have 
been slain by the power of God, often in 
the pulpit, both in the M. E. and F. M. 
churches. Natural blindness, doubtlessr 
has been on this, as well as many other oc- 
casions, a blessing to me. 

I could see no growling lions or the up- 
turned lip of the scorner, denouncing the 
outward demonstrations of the Holy Ghost. 
The charge was true ; we do sympathize 
with such a class of Christians, of whatever 
iame or denomination. We did sympathize 
with them at the trial and crucifixion, being 
present at the Genesee Conference : we 
did weep with them that wept, when that 
modern Sanhedrim, without just cause or 
provocation thrust from that conference 
body such men as the Rev. B. T. Roberts^ 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. -11'5 ' 

' Stiles, iiaccreary and many others, which. * 
was the .beginning anci foundation of the 
Free Methodist Church, which now num- 
bers several thousands. We Vv-'ei e at home 
wdth them at their camp-meetings and love 
feasts ; it was that type of salvatipn that. 
w^^ engraved upon our youthful heart, 
sixty' 5'ears ago, at the conversion of our 
mother, when it was a cross for one to unite 
themselves with what was then known as 
the noisy Methodist. If you have read our 
book entitled Battles and Shoutings of the 
Victors in all ages of the Church, you have 
already learned what leathered tribe I 
pelong to. If the Free Methodists were sin- 
ners, it was my duty and privilege to preach 
repentance to them. On the other hai-dj 
if they were the sheep belonging to the flock 
of the true shepherd, we vrere commandc 
ed to feed them, so that our commission . 
covered both classes. Ir is also customary 
at every annual coi f . 3 of the M. E. 
Church that the char; ch' 
er should pass an e:i..._..: :. ^ 
Bishop, Therefore, when . 
quires of the P: eliding Eider ii tnera is 

anv thing against brother A. or B., the 
3 



416 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



PresidiDg Elder answers, there is nothiDg 
against his morality or piety, that is the end 
of all controversy ; his character is passed. 
And when the Rev. E. Eddy, in answer to 
the same interrogatory, said there v/as 
nothing .against our moral character or 
piety, this should have ended further con- 
troversy on that subject. On the- other 
hand, if it was w-icked in me to preach and 
Bympathize with the Free Methodists, 
then I should have had a fair trial, accord- 
ing to the discipline, *on these two very 
grievous charges ; namely, to preach and 
sympeilhize with that class of people. If 
he Rev. and dear brother had adopted the 
old golden rule, " That whatsoever ye would 
that others should do unto you, do ye even 
so unto them, lov this is the law and the 
vprophets that is to say, after his char- 
acter was passed at conference unspotted, 
then to have the conference appoint a com- 
mittee, with some Caiphas in the chair 
with a half a dozen back slidden members of 
the conference^ to roast him two nights till 
midnight over an Ecclesiastical gridiron, as 
they did me. The first night, the main 
effoit by the conference was to make us 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



417 



promise to neither preacli or sympatliize 
with the Free Methodists, on peril of losing 
my license, from which there was no ap- 
peal to a higlier tribunal, according to the 
E. discipline. He that called us to 
preach and sent ns ont, verified his word on 
that occasion : Lo, I am with yon/' Amen„ 
Hallelujah. ' He made, me a Mordecai. I 
did not bend a muscle of my neck then, nor 
ever will, to any ungodly Hammon, though 
in sight of the ga^llows and rope, fifty cubits 
high. The first scene of the trial was on 
Saturday evening, and lasted until about 
midnight, when the conference' adjourned 
until Monday evening, when we were to 
stand again in the criminal box. On the 
Monday previous to the trial, brother Eddy 
penned five resolutions to be submitted and 
passed by the conference ; they were five 
scare- a-crows, popish enough to emanate 
from the cliair, said to be that of St. Peter 
of Rome, As there was nothing in the 
Bible or discipline to array against me, there 
must of necessity be a new law passed. 
The most prominent feature was that of 
contumacy, copied, most lihely, fi^om the 
Genesee Conference tribunal. At all eventSo.. 



TRIALS AND TPJUMAHS IN .THE 



it "was of the same Idnclred, namelY, that it 
I did not haw and gee precisely at the beck 
of the preacher in charge, it wonid be at 
the peril of losing my license, 'if not mem- 
bership, for the awful sin of contumacy' ; 
bnt we resolved, like Peter and John, who, 
on a like occasion, said they should obey 
G'odi rather than man; feeling that *my 
license to preach came from a sonrce too 
high to be blotted out by the pen of 
mortals. Monday night came, and we must 
confess here, it was about the only trial we 
had ever had that cansed us for the two 
nights previons to toss on onr bed from side 
to side, whilst sleep departed from our eyes. 
"We were a hard child to Vv^ean from our 
mother. Conteren.ce being organized, each 
member having been instructed during the 
day vrhat to do, passed the resolutions at 
once, and ordered them recorded on the 
church record. An eloquent lawyer, not a 
member of the church, was also secured by 
the Kev. E. Eddy, a kind of a TertuUns, 
that spoke so eloquently against Paul on a 
similar occasion. But He that called us to 
preacli, said he would make ns as an iron 
pillar, a brazen Vy^all, or fenced city. • We 



LIFE OF G. Yi. HENRY. 419 



never fihi died a hair, or bent a ninscle of 
onr neck, as we read on onr commission, 
" Go ye nnto all tlie vrorlcl and preach the 
Gospel to everj crea.tnre." We were glad 
then that we had no axes to grind, as the 
saying is ; no repntation or salary to lose. 
Tlie vote was then taken a little before that 
midnight honr, which resulted in a majori- 
ty of one granting my license, vrhilst a well 
whet swordjcalled contumacy, was placed in 
the hands of the preacher in charge, by the 
fresh made law, Vvdiich would probabh' sever 
license, head and all, if we undertook to 
obey man rather than he vdio called us to 
preach ; and the intelligent body, after 
doing Lheir work, adjourned. Well, says 
the reader, what course did brother Henry 
take, with his head cut off, with the except- 
ion of one ligament ? I think we continued 
in the chm-ch about three months, and 
worshiped with them as usual, for it was 
not an action of the main body of the Meth- 
odist church, or of its membership, for they 
were grieved over it, and sympathized with 
■QS. It- was equally so in the Genesee Con- 
ference. You know Jesus told his cleciples 
hat he must go up to JerusPvlem, and there 



420 



TRIALS AND TRIUJIPHS IX THE 



suffer many tilings of the Scribes and Pliar- 
isees, and tlie Elders of the people. If an 
outsider had heaitl this, he would suppose 
it to be the very class of people that Jesus, 
or any of the disciples, vrould go to for 
protection ; but it is the last place to find 
mercy, or justice, at the bp.r of a back slid- 
den Ecclesiasticle power. We finally con- 
cluded, after much prayer, and many tears, 
to surrender our credentials for preaching, 
as well as our membership ; and we run 
in the street, as it were, having no home, 
until the Free Methodist Conterence set at 
Syracuse. We then presented ourself to 
that, then persecuted body; we Vv'ere at 
once made a minister and a member of the 
Free Methodist church, and I found, to my 
surprise, my wife standing by the side of 
•her blind husband, desiring to join that 
band of Pilgrims, where we have remained 
until the present time, and expect to live 
and die with them, and reign with them in 
glory, and to all that are faithful unto the 
end. 

We have spun out a much Longer 
thread concerning this trial than we expect- 
ed to. We never have solicited our wife. 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



421 



or any other person, to leave one cliiircli 
and join another. This vre think an import- 
ant step to take, and shonld not be done 
without much thought and prayer. Per- 
haps an apology should' be recorded here, 
for the Eev. E. Eddy, the preacher in 
charge, and the Caiphas of the above tri- 
bunal, as he had graduated from the Lunatic 
Asjdum sometime previous to his appoint- 
ment to the Oneida charge. Some might 
think if he had taken another term there 
he might have been better qualified as a 
shepherd over the flock of God, 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Deae reader, before I lay down my pen, 
please have patience v/ith me while I tell 
you, in this chapter, something about our 
success in climbiug up one more worldly 
or financial Mount Blancs. This is a proper 
name, you will say ; for all the financial 
peaks we have stood upon from cur boy- 
hood until the present time, we have 
drav»m a blank • the onlv successful moun- 



422 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

tain wliere we have drawn a rich prlze^ 
and where we now stand, is among the high 
peaks of the land of Beulah. 

You have seen, over the head of each 
page of the book, written, " The Trials and 
Triumphs in the Life of G. W. Henry.'' 
Thank Gcd, we have had one more triumph 
than trial, one more victory than defeat; and 
whosoever gains the hills of Paradise, if 
they have had nine hundred and ninety- 
nine battles, they will be able to count one 
thousand victories. The last victorious 
shout will be when thy sanctified foot shall 
stand upon the neck of thy last enemy, 
which is death* 

Who ever heard of a triumph that was 
not preceded bv a trial, or a victory that 
was not the result of a battle ? A fighting 
cock will never crow until he has whipped 
his antagonist. A Christian has no au- 
thority or cause for shouting, until he has 
overcome the world, the flesh and the devil. 
The inhabrtants of the rock are commanded 
to sing and shout on the tops of the moun- 
tains, not at the base, nor half the way up. 

There are three rounds to Jacob's lad- 
der of joyous hope. At the lovv^est round 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



423 



the Curistian may say, Amen, to the gospel 
truth. At the second round he may articu- 
late, Salvation; Hallelujah; Glory to God 
on high. The third round is what Peter 
jcalls joy unspealvable an^dfull of glory; it is 
a joy far above articulation in any lan- 
guage; it is sometiuies danced out, at other 
times both hands and feet are brought in 
motion, by clappings ; and at other times 
it is screamed or yelled out. We have 
more than a hundred times, vrhen grace 
has set our feet in triumph on this upper 
round, experienced Peter's unspeakable joy, 
which we had not power to articulate ; and 
what makes it so exquisite and heavenh^ is, 
this joy is so commingled with the glory of 
which the true meaning is, goodness of 
God. 

And is not this the cause of what the 
fashionableiworld calls quiet and order, that 
so few church members rise above the first 
round of the ladder? — and we are sorry 
we don't hear more of the good old apos- 
tolic Amens, from pulpit and pews, while 
the gospel is being preached, Jehovah is 
surely a God of order ; the grave-yard he 
has intended for all the dead, and the. 



424 



TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS IX THE 



church of Christ exclusively for the living... 
But, reader, as we have promised you 
above, if you will have patience, we will 
give you one more account of our financial 
cl.imbings, and its usual result. Soon after 
we moved to Oneida, as you have learned 
that our book-selling to libraries had come 
to an end, it was important that we should 
look about for something to do, both for 
ourself and our children, as it was still 
written, " six days shalt thou labor.'^ We 
then commenced not only to write books,, 
but purchased a lot of tools, and com- 
menced a book-bindery, which we gradu- 
ally increased until 1861, the commence- 
ment of the war, when not only the Bible, 
but a good share of all religious books, as 
well as the temperance cause, had to give 
way, and about the only reading was of the 
bloody battles and glorious victories in the 
campaign of four yeais. 

We had at this time a large bindery, em- 
ploying both men and women, binding not 
only our own works, but thousands of vol- 
umes and periodicals from other authors. 
We had six of our own works, including a 
camp-meeting hymn book, all stereotyped,. 



LIFE OF W. HEXRY. 



425 



and costing about two thousand dollars. 
We bad at the same time a contract with 
■ John Cleaver, of Canada, a New-Connec- 
tion Methodist preacher,, for twenty-one 
thousand of my books, to be delivered seven 
thousand a year, for three successive y^arSc 
Our prospects then were as bright and fair 
for money-making as at almost any period 
of our life ; we were so[completely involved 
in business, that I think, for the first year 
since I was converted, I had not time to 
attend a camp-meeting ; and if grace had 
permitted me to have gone much longer in 
this way, I should soon have been like the 
lukewarm Lao(Jiceans, increased in goods, 
and having need of nothing. I had just ar- 
rived at the pinnacle of another Mount 
Blanc, readv for the grace of God to turn- 

It/ o 

ble me down again to the base of this moun- 
tain, where mercy alone could save me. 

Reader, you have above a description of 
the gospel ladder that brings us to the top 
of Mount Zion, with the three rounds 
made of gospel timber. We are now about 
to tell you of a ladder that grace had pre- 
pared to let us down gently from the pin- 
nacle of Mount Blanc to its base, or to the 



426 TPwIALS AND TRIUMJ^ITS IN THE 

valley of Liimiliation, where love cro^^Red 
the meek and the lowlj. Goats may live 
on the slopes of Mount Blanc, on bronse 
and dew, but the shepherd leads his sheep 
into the green pastures of the valley, where 
the river of life overflows its banks. This 
descending ladder of love had six rounds to 
it. Y/e have told you in a former chapter, 
how we were visited five times v/ith a 
summor.s from the ''king of terrors," ta- 
king our loved ones, step by step. We-are 
now about to tell you of six annual visits 
the God of providence in her mercy made 
lis, commencing, we think, the first year of 
the war. The first step of the descending 
ladder from Mount Blanc — fhis ■ Methodist 
preacher, John Cleaver, of Canada — alter 
we had delivered to him seven thousand 
of our books, put his property out of his 
hands, sold the most of the books, and 
cheated me out of five thousand volumes of 
them. May God have mercy on him. This 
was on^^step down the ladder. The next 
winter the ^' Journal" printing office at Sy- ^ 
racuse burnt down, and destroyed about ^ 
one thousand dollars^ v/orth of our stereo- 
type plates, and down .we^ v/eut another 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXr.Y. 427 

round of the ladder. The next winter our 
only daughter, Mrs. Hitchcccky which we 
have mentioned in a foregoing chapter^ 
Avas laid in her grave. Her wealthy hus- 
band, vvho had been a kind of financial prop 
to us, gave way, and we went down tha 
third round. The next winter w^e were en- 
gaged in making a cheap coffee from Can- 
ada peas and other things, which we burned 
over a TSTaptha stove, giving us employ- 
ment as well as profit. We think this was 
in February, 1866 ; we had had a glorious 
prayer meeting at our house that evening, 
preparing us in some measure for an unex- 
pected trial, then standing at our door. At 
eleven o'clock that night my wife went 
through the house, to see that the fire vvas 
all safe ; at two o'clock that morning we 
were awakened by the never-t: : :> 
ten crackling of th^ flames over : L- ; 
about half of the house was on fire ; we had 
just time to leap from our bed, and by the 
help of some neighbors snatch a few things 
from the front part of the house, and then 
stand and see the house and ail its contents, 
with a large quantity of coffee, reduced to 
ashes. There was no insurance, .and down 



428 TRIALS AXD TPJUMPE5 IX THE 



we went the foiirtli rouDcl of the ladder. 
The Dest winter our son, Maxwell Brown, 
fifteen years and a half old. whose death we 
have already mentioned in a foregoing 
chapter, who had just begun to earn a lit- 
tle money for the household, was laid in 
the grave : this earthly prop, which a blind 
and aged father and a feeble mother began 
to lean upon as an earthly staff, was broken 
as a pipestem ; this let us gently down the 
fifth round of the ladder. 

The only candle of the household seemed 
then to be blown out, so we resolved to 
break up keeping house, while Mrs. Henry 
left, and made a visit of one year to her 
friends in TTashington and in the West. 
During that year I vrrote the notable and 
strange book entitled " Fresh Laurels from 
the Garden of Eden, of which you have 
been informed in a previous chapter. I 
was as a pelican in the wilderness that 
year, laden with infirmities of the body and 
trials too sore to be written, which a sym- 
pathizing Jesus and myself only knew. 
Job speaks of some days and nights he 
wishes not to be remembered among the 
rest of the days, and we might almost say 



LIFE OF G. W. HEXRY. 



429 



the same of that year's sad experience. 
But grace, rich aboundiDg grace, was our 
Iront and rear guard. We think we never 
labored more in the vineyard than that 
year ; and had it not been for the grapes 
and pomegranates we feasted upon, we fear 
we should hare fainted. And now we are 
about to approach the sixth and lowest 
round of this descending ladder. 

For mercy^s sake, says the reader, what 
is to be the next yearly visit? It was a 
peculiar trial, and the one most unlooked- 
for, and probably it vras the bitter dregs 
which are found at the bottom of the medi- 
cinal glass. We had rented a part of a new 
house in Oneida, of brother Oscar Gleazen, 
a Hol}^ Ghost class-leader of the M. E. 
church, with Ellen his sanctified partner, 
and little Charley. We are glad to record 
their names here in precious memory, as 
we became that year, like David and Jona- 
than, our hearts knitted together in love. 
It was a new and spacious building, and 
every room was dedicated to Jesus. It Avas 
truly a house of prayer, and every heart a 
temple of the Holy Ghost. My wife hav- 
ing returned at the end of her year's visit, 



439 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



we commenced house-keeping again, and it 
was like Milton's ^' Paradise Lost'' and *' Par- 
adise Regained.'' Our moral sky was 
cloudless, and just spirited wind e.nough to 
fill our sails, something like that ol the 
" twelve ancient mariners'' that started un- 
der such a clear sky and pleasant breeze to 
cross the waters of Galilee, with the Mas- 
ter asleep in the cabin, who had power to 
throw open the doors of the storm-king, to 
cause the!'" Gennesaret to roll in mountain 
waves, tossing their fragile bark from its 
crest to the trough of the sea. Sun, moon, 
and stars had hid their' lovely faces behind 
the thunder-cloud seeming]}^ charged with 
wrath, whilst the lightning's red glare made 
the midnight darkness to appear more visi- 
ble and terrific, whilst sharks, like devils, 
played beneath the waves, eager for their 
pre}^ vv^hile the Master seemed to be rocked 
to sleep in the cradle of. the storm-king. 
And, doubtless, reader, the whole of this 
storm in commotion was all devised and 
planned prior to the boat's leaving the 
shore. It was to be a trial of the apostles' 
faith, and to show to them, and all that 
should be born after them, how perfectly 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



431 



powerless is the human arm to deliver ; 
and when they had laid, down their oars in 
despair, they. stepped down into the cabin, 
and with a gentle touch awoke Him who 
holds the sea in the palm of his hand, who 
had the same power to hush the storm, as 
to cause the terrible commotion : and as 
the sequel will show, the sky was soon 
cleared, the muttering thunder was silenced. 
Boreas shut down his windows, and the ]it- 
tie tempest-tossed bark was soon lying on 
the surface of the sea, as peaceful and calm 
as a babe sleeping on the boson: of a loving 
mother, and they had a pleasant and joyful 
trip to the other shore. We are now de- 
scending to the sixth and last round of this 
ladder. Thus far down we cannot think 
of the least harm that has befallen us ; all 
has worked together for good ; our faith 
has increased four-fold in him who "is a 
present help in time of trouble.^' 

You have already learned in previous 
chapters of the infirmities of my compan- 
ion, for many years the catarrh in theliead^ 
and with other diseases, w^hich are limited, 
to her own sex. A lad threw into our door 
a flaming hand-bill. A man by the name of 



432 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 

Parmeter had arrived in oiir village, pro- 
fessing to have a new and greatly improved 
battery. Alas ! how little we-know- what a 
day may bring forth ! The last Sabbath oi 
the previous month seemed to be the most 
snnny day of her life. She reported herself, 
v/hile in class, as standing on Pisgah, with 
a cloudless view of the promised land, both 
sonl and body seemingly triumphant. Alas ! 
how often is the Christian's spiritual Pisgah 
like that of Moses within a bow-shot of a 
new duo- 2:rave, or what is more to be dread- 
ed, suffering in their wild imaginations the 
agonies of many deaths, which Vv^as her sad 
experience. The Monday following she re- 
ceived a powerful cha^rge from an electric 
battery, applied (or rather misapplied) to 
her head, for the catarrh, by the hand of a 
floating quack, who opened his office in our 
village for a few days. This, in connection 
with her infirmities, in a few subsequent 
hours threw her into the wildest delirium, 
and she became a raving maniac. Frail as 
her body and voice ordinarily w^ere, she 
opened her declamations night and dayj 
with a voice, much of the time, loud 
enough for a field officer commanding his 



LIFE OF G. W. EE^iRY. 433 

regiment, with veiy lit':]3 intermission, con- 
versing, as she supposed, vrith the spirits of 
her departed children, in dialoOTC, in stran2:e 
and almost unutterable lano^naee, occasion- 
ally commanding evil spirits, which she 
seemed to see, back to their native per- 
dition; sometimes fancying herself the assas- 
sinated Lincoln, seemingly to undergo the 
agonies of that dying martyr; then again 
she was Sampson with his long tresses fas- 
tened in the.web ot the loom, bearing the 
whole away, exhibiting every attitude 
w^orthy of such an occasion. Her language 
was from the most lofty themes, alternately 
dropping dowm to the most ridiculous and 
farcical. Her remarhs about persons pres- 
ent would both sting and tickle. If the 
chalf could be sifted from the wheat for the 
seventy-two hours' declamations, it would 
make a wondrous and perhaps interesting 
volume. 

On the fourth day the hurricane ceased, 
after shivering the fragile bark, and win- 
nowing 'out of her brain every vestige of 
reason, leaving her in a most lamentable 
idiotic state ; and on the twelfth day, with 
much joy, we fancied we heard in the dis- 



434 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



tance the chariot vvlieels of reason returning' 
v/ith majesty to her late abdicated throne. 
And here lies a hidden inj'stery. From 
whence came this unnatural artificial 
strength of body and voice, or in vhat 
secluded chamber has it lain curled up and 
gone to sleep, requiring the strength of a. 
strong man to hold her hands, while her 
feet were pinioned, with her voice as clear 
and audible at the end of seventy-two hours 
as in the beginning '? Echo answers, where. 

During this terrible storm , we had on& 
bright and cheering star of hope — having 
the full assurance, should the storm end in 
life or death, it was utterly impossible that 
my dear comi3anion could suffer a particle 
of loss, as she has had for many years both 
ship and its precious cargo insured for the 
full amount in the office of the Ancient of 
Days, which cannot fail. 

It was the custom of the Methodist fa- 
thers to v/eave in a little of their own exper- 
ience whenever they addressed tlie pubhc ; 
and as I like the old paths, I am disposed to 
walk therein. What I have said above is con- 
cerning the sad experience of my wife, and 
some' of my fellow pilgrims might feel inter- 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



435 



ested in knowing Iiow I behaved myself dur- 
ing tlie tempest. In Visiting tlie insane asy- 
lums, often have some of its inmates pressed 
tlieir Avay to me in order to have me sliake 
their hands, which were confined in a leath- 
er muff — while their bodies were laced in a 
straight jacket. I fancied I could sympathize 
with them and for them; but when the 
same harness was placed in my hands, which 
was soon to be laced on the feeble, yet 
frantic body of my own dear wife, it was a 
little too much for weak human nature to 
etand— it was bringing it too. near home. 
My heart-strings gave way, jike a mill-dam 
in the time of a fresliet, and my manhood 
vrent overboard, and my sightless eye-balls 
were made red by weeping and wailing 
aloud like a child. What courageous war- 
riors we were at the North, Vv^hen the rebels 
were held at bay a thousand miles distant ; 
but had they been let loose, with their dogs 
of war, upon our own village, and began to 
riddle our peaceful homes . vnth their red- 
hot bombshells, possibly our manhood and 
courage might have oozed out at the end of 
our fingers. 

Says the trembling one, this is bringing 



436 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



the war quite too near home.'' Howevei^ 
during all this storm, my own sonl wad 
snugly anchored in the peaceful haibor 
of perfect love. Had I not discov- 
ered, through the telescope of faith, the 
bright bow of promise arching over the 
whole heavens at the midnight hour, on 
which were written, in letters of burniug 
light, " All things shall work together f^r 
good to them that love God,'' — 1 say, had it 
Bot been for this, I might have been tempt- 
ed to set the above down as one light ?M\c- 
tion on my voyage to the promised land. 
But when I come to reflect, I could not re- 
member of a single tempestuous trial but 
that had been sanctified to my good, so that 
when the sea became calm I discovered it 
had cast up and left some very precious 
pearls on the shore, which I picked up and 
laid up in my safety bank ; and herein lies- 
the secret of my immense wealth. 

Reader, we might write many pages of 
what Richard the Third would call a " win- 
ter of discontent. Many things she remem- 
bers since her recovery are dreadful to relate^ 
such as being encoffined alive, beholding 
. the coffin on the hearse about ready to take 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 437 



ber and bury her alive, and being nailed to 
the cross ; all seemed to her as real as life. 
Thank Grod, who doeth all things well, rea- 
son, like Noah^s dove, returned in the 

^spring to the shattered . bark, and seated 
herselt again on the throne, and has reigned 
as a queen ever since. 

This cup of affliction seemed to be ne- 
cessary to bring us fairly down into the 
clover fields of the valley of humiliation, 
where we could walk as a youthful bride, 
leaning her whole weight on the arm of her 
beloved, as it is written, Thou shalt no 
more be termed forsaken, neither shall thy 
land anymore be termed desolate, but thou 

"shalt be called Hepsi-bah — meaning the 
king's bride — and thy land Beulah, for thy 
Lord dehghteth in thee, and thy land shall 
be mairitd ; and as a young man marrieth 
a virgin, &o shall thy sons marry thee, and 
as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, 
so shall thy Grod rejoice over thee.'^ Isaiah 
62. 4, 5. And from this land, by the grace 
of God, we expect soon to take our exit 
for the land of the blest and the home of 
the free in Jesus, 



43S 



ES IX THE 



CHAPTER XL. 
r^: reader, Tl:^ my farewell chapter. 
L . :'?un a loDger thread than- 1 

f: ad 1 : but for fear the inex 

enced C : " " n, or the babe in Chritty 
in r?^.'^.a v': r f-'-r^^iog chapter, raight 
c:__-' a a a :a:..:.aon that rae Caris- 
t: :.a'.; d'^ :^ dire was ia:a"r aa cd aa- 
Lr: -a:;a ' : r and bitter herbs, hke that 
c: v^. r d _ ; da a:: ta^ aijht of the Passover, 
V d a d a -red Irom Goshen, in 

r a. d a i: von read in Exodr*s 
ad. . Tav d d ia addition to the sad 
dva;. ''a;d ':daa; da 'aa rll they want e a cf 
id: ;:::a;a : a; _ : ; d . : : the latt.,;- :i 

a ,da ' : v - :a" : : : a: _ :■ ; ■ r sadness 



-a: a^:d:. *^ Thy bitter. crL. 

poei. " a: .:"~a:^" 'a ad here, shall : rd 

to tiij heaveiL above, hut shall noi eater 

there/' 

Tve ^ y to the young Christrian 

who has luiio vred us thus far in onr history^ 
from cnr flaxen haired yonth up to th ^ 
seartd and yellow leaf ©f seventy. 
Biight think that even since we were 



LIFE OP G. T7. HEXRY. 



439 



of the spirit, we have been a roan of sor- 
rows, and acquainted with grief; to be sure 
w6 have had just bitter herbs enough, to 
make us healthy, but the joy of the Lord has 
been our strength; we have been able to 
rejoice ever more. It has been tenfold the 
happiest pai:t of our life, although we have 
not seen our own face for iliirty years. 
But, says, one, amidst so many losses by fire 
and fraud and fell disasters of every shape, 
have, you never suffered for the comforts of 
life ? We answer, to the glory of God, no, 
never ; neither have v^'e ever had the least 
fear of comiDg to want, either for -soul or 
body. Our barrel and cruse have never 
failed. Our spiritual Joseph has filled our 
sack with, not only the common comforts, 
but also with the luxuries, of life and dain- 
ties of the season. We have often had to 
get upon our knees and beg of our Heaven- 
ly Father to forgive us, what we feared 
might be thought sumptuous living. Our 
place of defence has been, for thirtj^ years, 
in the ''munitions of rcck?.'^ Our bread 
has been given us, and our water is sure.. 
Angels in the flesh have ministered unto us 
of their substance in every time o-f need, so- 



440 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



that we have lacked nothing in this direc- 
tion. And we would be uugrateful if we 
should forget to mention the loving kind- 
ness administered by our brothers and sis* 
ters of Oneida, who have stood by us by . 
night and by day, as ministering angels, 
not only when death came and removed 
our loved ones, but especially that never-, 
to-be-forgotten winter, when our compan- 
ion seemed to be fed with bitter herbs, and 
was bereft of reason. 

There is also another class of loved ones, 
who may think we pass them by unnoticed, 
like the Jew and Levite, who passed by the 
unfortunate man that fell among thieves on 
his way from Jerusalem to Jericho, who 
robbed him, and left him half dead, wished 
him well perhaps, as that is a cheap kind 
of comfort ; although it never warms or 
clothes any one. But not so with the good 
Samaritan ; he not only looked upon him, 
but he bound up his wounds with the band- 
age of the promises of the gospel to the 
poor and needy, and anointed him with the 
oil of joy, which at once dispelled his 
mournings and sadness. Jesus, all the 
day long, was his joy and his song,'' He 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



441 



then took from his saddle-bags a bottle of 
the wine of the kingdom, pressed from the 
grapes of Eschal, and gave him a few ^ 
draughts, and at once he stood upon hi& 
feet ; he became as a giant filled with wine, 
ready to run the Christianas race, mounted 
the Samaritan^s horse, and started on a full 
gallop for the new^ Jerusalem, singing as he 
w^ent, I am on my journey home.'^ Which 
of the three, said Jesus, was neighbor to 
the man? The answer was from the law- 
yer, He that showed mercy.'' And this 
is the class the Christian is required to 
love as himself. 

And, reader, what think you, if you had 
been the unfortunate subject, brought by 
the good Samaritan to a comfortable board- 
ing house, and money left to pay the host 
for your entertainment, would you not 
have loved the Jew and the Levite just as 
well as you did the good Samaritan? I 
think I hear you answer, " No.'' God never 
required us to love without a cause for 
loving ; as it is w^ritten, v^e love Jesiis^ 
which the good Samaritan represents, be- 
cause he first loved us, and made sacrifices 
^for us ; we should love the sinner with a 
love of pity, and pray for him. 



442 ' TRIALS AXD TRIUMPHS 12^ THE 

The class of lored ones we sp.eak of 
above, are the thousands we have preached 
the gospel to for the last twenty years, at 
the Oneida county poor house and asylum, 
as often as once in two or three weeks, 
averaging about three hundred inmates, 
and is reported to be one of the best insti- 
tutions of the kind in the State, not only 
for the spacious and costly buildings, but 
also for the veiw fortunate choice of the of- 
ficers conducting the various departments. 
To be keeper and matron of such a house- 
hold, made of the fragments oi every na- 
tion, rec{uires the patience of a Job and the 
wisdom of a Solomon ; it requires the firm- 
ness of a lion, well balanced with.the meek- 
ness of a lamb. There has been about one 
thousand of its inmates laid in the grave 
since we commenced our labors there, so 
that they have had a stationary preacher, 
whilst we have had an itinerant congrega- 
tion. Some have passed away into eter- 
nity, whilst others have a transient stay; 
and I think the old graveyard, with its fif- 
teen himdred paup^er graves, in the resur- 
rection morning will. turn up as good a per- 
centage of the redeemed and blood washecj, 
any cemetery in city or country. 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 



443 



This is one of the best coDgregations we 
know of for a good Samaritan to dispense 
his oil and wine of the kingdom. If we 
know our own heart, we would not ex- 
change our pulpit ^vith a Beecher or a 
Spurgeon, even if we were qualified to take 
their place. The poor are about the only 
class of people that say in their hearts, 
how joyful are the footsteps that bring glad 
tidings to the meek. It was the common 
people ^that rejoiced at the footsteps of 
Jesus, vvher^ but few then, as now, of 
earth's nobility bow the knee to Jesus; and 
even most of them are mere form without 
the power. We should want a hundred 
pages to tell you of the sorrows that have 
been poured into our ears from widows and 
orphans, tiie crippled and unfortunate, as 
they related their sad experience while we 
sat by their bedside. What a blessing it 
•was then for us to get. upon our knees and 
pour into their ears the prayer of consola- 
tion, and sing to them one of Zion's songs. 
Then the hundreds of fuut^ral sermons we 
have preached, from manj^ different de- 
nominations, that have exchanged their 
pauper vestments for the spotless white 



444 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



robe in glory, where we expect to hail 
them with joy in the resurrection morn- 
ing, in that land where the inhabitants 
shall never say, "I am sick;" and they that 
dwell therein shall have been forgiven their 
iniquities. 

In the spring of 1869, we returned to the 
village of Frankfort, where we have ever 
found the same kind angels in the flesh 
ready to minister to our comfort, when we 
need them, both Jew and Gentile.. The 
Judge will not say to many of them, I was 
an hungered and ye gave me no meat.^' 
May the good Lord bless all our friends in 
their basket and store. 

Our next move we expect will be to the 
sheeted nations of the dead, there to wait 
the return of the Bridegroom, the great Eye- 
Opener, where we shall not require the 
bright eyes of some lad to lead us in paths 
of safety, but shall be led by the Lamb 
Himself to fountains of living, water. And 
with this I will bid my reader an affection- 
ate farewell, and will conclude this chapter 
by copying our Love Feast Testimony, as 
it was printed a few weeks ago in a paper 
printed in New York, entitled Free Metho* 



LIFE OF G. W. HENRY. 445 



dist, "which will give to the reader the state 
of glorious grace we have lived in the last 
three years. 

With your permission, for the first time, 
I will take a seat in your Free Methodist 
Love Feast. The only trouble I ever found 
at a Love Feast, was to shut down the gate, 
I find so much to say about my blessed 
Master. I have just crossed the thresh- 
old of seventy winters, and expect soon to 
brush the dews from Jordan's banks. My 
whole life may be pressed into a nutshell, 
I have lived forty years in spiritual Egypt, 
one year in the slough of despond, three 
years in twilight and twenty-six years in 
the land of Beulah. Amen. Hallelujah. 

The sun and moon have never waned or- 
set beneath our moral sky, a country far 
out of sight of doubting castle. This coun- 
try is fertile for corn, and wine, and oil ; 
no lack for grapes and pomegranates. It 
is a long time since we have done singing 
for ourselves — 

" On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, 
And cast a wishful eye." 

We crossed over with our spiritual Joshua 
twenty-six years ago, when faith was swal- 



446 TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



lowed up in sight. A witness cannot swear 
to something he believes, but to something 
he knows experimentally ; so that j^ou may 
consider the testimony I have hereby writ- 
ten as being under oath. Amen. 

While liviDg in this country, we have 
been favored with one standing miracle, 
which has been like the wearing apparel of 
the old Israelites, they never waxed old or 
got out of fashion. It has been a wonder 
of wonders that one of such stirnng ambi- 
tion as myself, should be just as well satis- 
fied with thirty years total blindness, as I 
ever was with my eye-sight. I have not 
seen a moment's time since I have lived in 
the land of Beulah, that I would give a 
penny for the restoration of my sight, un- 
less I knew it was the will of my Father 
that I should have it. I do-not think I ever 
did thank God for forty years eye-sight ; 
bat I have, I presume, thanked him a thous- 
and times for taking my children, property, 
health and sight, and in exchange has 
given me a home in the new Jerusalem, in 
the city of the living God ; so that I have 
enjoyed for many years the comforts of a 
city life, where fresh bread has been daily 



LIFE OF G. \\\ HENEY, 



447 



given and no lack of water from the rock. 
Angels, both in the. spirit and flesh, have 
ministered to our daily vvants. Some of our 
companions are among those that were first 
justified and afterwards made perfect in 
love. While living in the city, we have 
been endowed with honors that no prince 
or king on earth have in their power to be- 
stow on their subjects, viz : to be a poor- 
house preacher, and heirs of God, of blood, 
royal ancestry, own brother of him who vras 
born in a manger. This heirship and birth- ^ 
right, is the cause of our immiense wealth 
and joyous hope. We have v/rittenj since 
we moved into the land of Beulah, as much 
as to write the whole family Bible from 
Genesis to Revelations. About twenty 
thousand volumies of the difierent works 
are now lying on somebody's stand, in the 
old or new world. In each volume we have 
testified in substance what we have written 
above, and .they will follow me to the judg- 
ment. Amen. Hallelujah. 

I have entered the valley of blessing so sweet, 
And Jesus abides with me there ; [plete, 

And his spirit and blood make my cleansins; com- 
And His perfect love casteth out fear. 



448 



TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS IN THE 



Oh, come to this valley of blessing so sweet, 

Where Jesus will fullness bestow, 
And believe, and receive, and confess him. 

That all his salvation may know. 

There is peace in the valley of blessing so sweet, 

And plenty the land doth impart; 
And there's rest for the weary worn traveler's feet. 

And joy for the sorrowing heart. 

There is love in the valley of blessing so sweet, 
Such as none but the blood- washed may feel, 

"When heaven comes down, redeemed spirits to greet, 
And Christ sets His covenant seal. 

There's a song. in the valley of blessing so sweet, 
That angels would fain join the strain, 

As with rapturous praises we bow at his feet. 
Crying, ".Worthy the Lamb that "v^as slain.'* 



" ' . . ^ ^ 



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